The Long Howl
by SeventhSpanishAngel
Summary: Okami Hogwarts crossover. Sigh, i really can't help myself. So we're off to see the wizard, flowers appear everywhere, and even i don't know how it will end.
1. By the Light of the Sun

**The Long Howl: The Chosen One and the White Wolf **(aka another bloody crossover)

**Disclaimer:** I own only the idea- the characters etc belong to their creators.

**Warnings:** Violence, character death, allusions to relationships canon, non-canon. Fight scenes and darkness.

**Rating:** Uh, M, I think.

**Spoilers:** Don't read if you haven't read the Harry Potter books 1-5, and played the Okami game. Yet again, sarcasm and craziness abound. I play around with timelines and canon, cause I can. If you don't like that, just don't read. Uh, my knowledge of, um, other cultures is…sadly lacking. So I make stuff up. So, feel free to point out mistakes and I'll have a look at them.

**Chapter One: By the light of the sun**

The white wolf raced over the plains. Thick fur that shone with an inner light shifted with the playful breeze. Grass and flowers flared into existence at the wolf's heels, tossing and dancing in the wind of the beast's passing, reaching heavenward before fading away. Tongue lolling out, the wolf danced playfully sideways, snapping at the flowers before wheeling about and racing off again.

The sun was shining in full glory, blazing brightly down upon the world and compelling the creatures of the mortal world into a sleepy haze. The white wolf reared onto it's back legs and waved it's paws at the sky with a happy bark, then collapsed onto the ground, wriggling happily.

At the top of the hill and reclining lazily against a tree branch, a man with long golden hair played a flute and watched the wolf below.

Neither the wolf or the man were by any means normal.

The wolf was marked with odd red-purple markings on her fur, her eyes a blend of red and gold. A necklace of beads hung around her neck, but constantly circled her throat without once touching her, despite her constant movement. Slung over her back, but also not touching, a beautiful shield with a trail of shifting flame hummed with power.

The man was strange too, although perhaps not as obviously as the wolf below.

His hair was very long and very bright, an intense shade of gold instead of the usual blonde. His eyes were currently half closed, giving only a fleeting glimpse of blue through thick lashes. His clothes were an interesting blend of colors. Two sheathes holding slender blades hung at his hip.

Despite these oddities, a random observer would still have not guessed at their identities. The wolf was, in fact, a goddess, and the man a lost member of the moon tribe, self exiled.

A mere year had passed since the conclusion of their dramatic battle against the lord of darkness, Yami. Although the beast had slaughtered the celestials aboard the ark, the sun goddess Amataresu remained in wolf form, and accompanied by Waka, the exiled man of the moon tribe, had at last returned to the Celestial Plain to set things right. Strengthened by the return of the power of the thirteen brush gods and the faith of her people, the sun goddess was better than ever, although her sorrow for her lost children and the condition of her realm was strong. Together, the two had cleansed the plain, and since overseen the mortal realm of Nippon, which flourished under her light.

Now, the sun goddess raced across the plains and played with the spirits of those long dead, allowing the full weight of joy and sorrow to build within her chest until at last she stopped her flight and threw back her head in a full-throated howl of mourning.

Atop the hill, Waka lowered his flute with a sigh. Blazing with light, the wolf ignored all else as she loosed her grief to the heavens. When at last she fell silent, and lowered her snowy head, her cry still echoed. For a moment, the light of the sun seemed to wane, as if clouded, and then it cleared. With her step as light as a shadow, the wolf nonetheless made her way up the hill with her head lowered. When she reached the tree that housed her companion, she collapsed as if mortally wounded, resting her head on her paws. There was a rustle overhead, as Waka observed her for a long moment, before dropping lightly from the tree to land beside her. He crossed his legs gracefully as he sat beside her. He leant his chin on his palm, silent. Lifting a hand, he began to stroke her head, sifting his fingers through her fur.

She made a low, miserable whine at the back of her throat. She lifted her head and edged closer to him, letting her head rest trustingly in his lap. He hummed a sad old song as he tweaked her ears, ran his fingers through her ruff.

There was silence, only the breeze still whispering past.

"We've been here for a while." His voice was a sudden intrusion into the silence. An eyelid flickered, and a single eye rolled up to look at him.

She had never spoken to him, and he wasn't even sure if she could, but he could read her as easily as he had two hundred years ago.

_Yes?_

He laughed softly.

"Ah, ma petite, you never change. My point is simple- we have done what we can. We have done everything humanely and divinely possible, and finally we've done it. Besides watching over Nippon- we have reached the end of our path."

Her head came up, and her eyes were full of sorrow, pools of shifting fire.

_You're leaving me?_

"Never, beloved. I simply think it's time we broadened our horizons a little. This will always be home, and we will always return here." He fell silent for a moment, and she allowed her head to slump back into his lap, although her eyes remained fixed on his face.

"But there are also too many ghosts here for you to be truly happy, ma cherie, and when you sorrow the sun dims. You need to be happy. We both need a change of scenery. There are many worlds out there, ma petite. Let's find some, have a look around. What do you think?" His hand paused in her fur as he craned his head to look down at her. She had her eyes closed, her head cocked to the side as if listening to something.

"Ma cherie?" Suddenly she surged to her paws, tail flying. She lunged for him and he fell back onto the grass with an oomph and an armful of wolf. She licked his face with great enthusiasm, emitting a series of happy huffing sounds. He laughed, fending her off.

"Gah, alright! Enough! I'm glad! I'm glad you're glad! Now stop before I have no face left!" She subsided with one last lick, but refused to get off, her weight pinning him as she nuzzled her head into his chest, and seemed to be ready to sleep.

"I'm so very happy you're comfortable. But I like breathing. Breathing is good. So is living. So unless you want to be exploring the universe alone, beloved, do get off." Waka managed the entire sentence with one squashed breath.

Amaratesu sniffed, but complied. Tail beating the grass, she watched him, and the sun overhead was blazing once more.

They didn't leave at once, although Ammy ran several enthusiastic circles around the Ark several times a day. The two spent several days ensuring the Plain was safe and everything was in order. Then, when Waka was pouring over chart maps, Ammy broke into a sprint and leapt out into nothingness as she fell once more to Nippon- but this time without the feral enraged form of Orochi for company. Waka had been trying to pinpoint their first destination, muttering mathematical equations under his breath, but his head jerked up as a blazing point of light took a running leap off the edge of the Plain and fell out of sight. He swore in surprise and leapt to his feet, spilling papers everywhere as he reflexively took a few steps forward. He let his hand fall away from his sword with an aggravated sigh.

"Give me a heart attack, would you?" He wandered to the edge and peered down.

"I'll just come down and pick you up in a day or so, shall I?" Muttering, he flung his hands up and went back to his maps.

Ammy plummeted like a falling star. When she came to rest on the mortal plain, she found herself near Sakuya's Tree, and nodded her head at the symbolism. The world was well and at peace, but before her temporary departure, Amaratesu wanted to ensure that everything would continue on so without her presence. She also wanted to say goodbye. She walked slowly up the path that led to the tree sprite, careful to keep out of sight. While most would, upon glimpsing her, dismiss her as a normal white wolf, there were also those that would recognize her as the goddess that had wandered Nippon a year ago.

Sakuya's tree looked better than ever, thriving and showing off thousands of pink blossoms that released a heavenly scent. The goddess drifted towards the great Tree, coming to a rest beneath it's spreading branches and sitting on her haunches. She barked once, inquiringly.

Flickers of light sparkled in the air and morphed into a familiar shape. Sakuya blinked down at her from the air, and broke into a delighted grin.

"Great mother Amataresu!" The sprite piped in her sweet voice.

"I am blessed by your presence. What can I do for you? Why have you wandered this way once more? I sense peace all throughout this beautiful land."

Ammy huffed agreement, and paced forward a little, lifting a paw and swiping at the air. The tree sprite drifted closer obligingly, soft eyes wide.

"Divine one?" Ammy whined softly, then leant forward and bathed her face. The sprite giggled like a little girl, then cautiously reached out and ran her fingers through thick white fur. She looked into the god's eyes.

"You are leaving us, divine one?" The sprite asked, uncertain.

"Why?" The wolf raised her head heavenward and sighed, letting her head slump before she fixed her eyes once more on the tree sprite she had known from a tiny sapling.

"I see. We will all miss you, great mother. I look forward to your return, and will miss you, but I will be comforted every time I feel the warmth of your rays. I pray you will find the peace you seek." The sprite gently kissed the wolf's muzzle.

"May the scent of fresh flowers protect you always." She drifted back into the air, but didn't vanish until the wolf was well out of sight.

There was one more being that Ammy wished to see before her departure. She knew she had a day or so before Waka finished up his coordinates and came to collect her. The one she wished to see, of course, was Issun. The little ponticle was her envoy on the mortal plain, and the tiny, temperamental little being was a friend and companion she would miss dearly. She could have traveled quickly to his village- he was there, last she checked- by using the contraption on the hill overlooking Kimiki village. But soon she would leave Nippon behind for a time, and she wanted to feel the pulse of the earth beneath her feet. She wanted to remember the feeling of this world. She broke into a trot, and then into a sprint, and then into something beyond that, moving so fast over the ground she was a silver-white blur trailing flames. And flowers.

Can't forget the flowers…

She traveled far. She ran over an ocean, thanks to the water tablet, sending sea-spray flying, and few glimpsed her. Animals she met in droves, as they sensed her light and came to watch her pass. Sometimes she would stop and supply them food, before resuming her flight. Only a handful of humans saw the wolf pass, and of that handful only two saw more than a wolf. When she last came to the frozen lands of the north, it came as a physical shock, as she broke from her musings as the world beneath her paws became icy.

Tirelessly, she continued on, winding her way through the barren land, skirting the villages as she headed for the dark forest and the clearing deep inside that housed the ponticles. She arrowed her way through the twisting pathways of the forest, painting flowers and trees along the way. Trailing flowers, she slowed from her sprint and loped gracefully towards the tree stump that marked the home of the tiny people of the forest. Normally, a wolf would never have been able to fit, but she had on her previous journeys liberated a rather interested mallet from the watery remains of a sunken ship. Besides being a somewhat sentient mallet with the ability to glow and float, it also possessed an interesting and useful power. Well, interesting and useful as long as you don't mind running the risk of being stepped on. The mallet, of course, shrunk it's possessor down to miniature size. Which was good if you happened to be a large mammal that was in reality a goddess, that needed to get in somewhere very, very small.

Ponticles are very, very small.

After a few amusing moments in which it looked like the mallet was about to bash the wolf over the head, but actually only sprinkled sparkling gold dust, the white wolf suddenly glowed a brilliant gold and disappeared.

Amaratesu blinked and stretched, looking around her new world lit with a soft greenish glow. The ponticle village hummed with life, the suspended pathways teeming with figures, full of life. For a moment, the now tiny goddess merely watched peacefully. Then she began to pace forwards. She was making a bee-line for the chief's hut, but before she had made more than a half-dozen steps she was spotted, and promptly ambushed. A tiny ponticle girl, barely making it past Ammy's knees, squealed with delight over the 'pretty doggy' and latched onto the goddess's tail. A flustered young boy, her brother, by his scent, darted forward to pull her away, apologizing repeatedly. Ammy licked his face soothingly and nuzzled the now screaming child, who shut up mid cry and broke once more into excited babbling, reaching out. The goddess allowed the little girl to pull at her fur for a moment, then gave her a gentle lick and continued on her way. Ponticles noticed her presence, and bowed reverently, some daring to reach out and touch her as she passed. She bobbed her head in return, but her attention was fixed on one particular scent. She was glad Issun was still there, for she knew he traveled often. Six months ago, he had finally given in and returned home to visit his grandfather. He never stayed long, but it was a start. She trotted up to the chief's home, barking a greeting to the guards stationed out front. She wasn't sure exactly what they were guarding him from, but it wasn't important. They greeted her politely and let her pass. She stuck her head in the door and whined. There was a crashing sound as something hit the floor.

"I know that sound… Ammy!" In the next room, there was a scrambling sound and then there was a green blur and a flying ponytail as Issun shot through and attached himself to Amaratesu's neck.

"Furball! It's been ages! Where have ya been? How's it hanging up there in the stars? The half-baked prophet driven you mad yet? Have you-" Ammy cut the envoy off with an enthusiastic face bathing.

"Ack! Wolf slobber! What was that for, Ammy? What are you doing running around with us mortals, huh?" Amaratesu huffed, glancing between Issun and his grandfather. Issun was as good at reading her as Waka.

"What do you mean you're leaving? Leaving where?" She huffed again. She could convey basic meaning, but particulars failed her when it came to facial expressions.

"It's that half-baked prophet, isn't it? Come on Ammy, what's wrong?" She huffed again, harder this time, and whined. Her ears flattened themselves momentarily, then pricked forward.

"…I see. Well, kinda, anyway." Issun absently patted her head, brows knitted.

"Well, only one thing for it. Can't have you zipping off to who-knows-where with that crazy moron. Issun and Ammy off on another adventure!" And with this bold pronouncement, the ponticle whipped out his sword and slashed at the air as if threatening some enemy.

"You and me, Ammy! It'll be just like old times! Nothing will stand in our way! Here's to good fights, great beer, and non-evil busty babes!" Issun cheered. Ammy snorted, shaking her head, but her eyes were gleaming, and she pressed gratefully against his side.

"So. Where exactly are we going?" Ammy let her head slump with a sigh. Issun's grandfather, her old companion, began to laugh.

"What are we waiting for, exactly?" Issun was impatient, nestled in the fur between the white wolf's ears. Amaratesu rolled her eyes upwards. The two of them were sitting on the top of Shinsu field. The wolf ignored her companion, her head craned back as she searched the skies. The shifting flames from her shield and the wind through her fur were her only movements.

"Ammy? Oh, Ammmmmy." The wolf still searched the skies. The ponticle sighed.

"Bored now. I keep expecting some monsters or something to leap outta nowhere and attack us. At least we'd have something to do…" Aware that his furry companion was still ignoring him, Issun nonetheless continued on. He was so wrapped up in his dialogue, in fact, that he completely missed it when Ammy leapt to her feet, tail waving, gaze fixed on something in the sky. She barked happily, dancing on her back legs and pawing at the sky.

This Issun noticed, and it was only her thick fur that saved him from tumbling to the ground.

"Whoa, furball! What's with the horse impression? You excited about something?" The Ark swept down out of the sky and came to a rest floating a few feet off the ground away from the duo. A door swept open, revealing Waka, arms crossed, leaning against the doorway.

"Well met, ma cherie. We are going to have to discuss the many uses of a collar and bell, however, after that stunt you pulled getting here. I nearly had a heart attack after your little lemming impersonation." Issun choked.

"You? Here! Oh no, Ammy, why? We're fine on our own, we don't need this guy tagging along!" Ammy ignored him, tail still waving. Waka blinked, and leaned forward a little.

"My little bouncing friend…that is you, isn't it? It's so hard to see from up here…" Issun growled and there was the ring of steel.

"Oh, calm down little envoy. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised she picked you up. I leave her alone for a few days…" A glittering rainbow bridge wove itself out of thin air, leading up to the Ark. Without pause, Amaratesu trotted forward and leapt gracefully up onto the insubstantial seeming path and bounded up into the Ark's interior. Issun gripped her fur hard and hankered down, but this time no barrier sent him flying.

"Resolve, my little bouncing friend. Interesting, no?" Issun managed a half-hearted glare, which was pretty ineffective considering the difference in masses.

"Whatever, crazy prophet guy. Maybe you can tell us where we are going? Ammy here was pretty vague on the details."

"Wherever the wind takes us, Issun, wherever the wind takes us." And the little envoy was so shocked at the use of his name that he said nothing as the entrance closed behind them and Waka wandered off to direct the great ship.

The interior of the finely built ship kept Issun amused for all of a week, as he set off on epic journeys, considering his size, exploring every nook and cranny he could find. A further three days were spent in dazed amazement up top as he watched the stars around them as the ship navigated the heavens with seeming ease. The warrior of the moon tribe spent his days pouring over maps and making adjustments, keeping a worried eye on the still form of his companion. The sun goddess slept almost continuously, her glow muted, and Waka grew more and more concerned as the days passed. Finally, he knelt beside her still form and lifted her limp head into his lap.

"Ma cherie? Are you awake?" He shook her lightly, smoothing her fur as her head lolled limply from side to side. Finally, her eyes flickered open, and dazed red gold eyes stared out blankly.

"Ammy? Can you hear me? What's wrong?" The worry in his voice seemed to rouse her slightly, as her eyes opened properly, and she attempted to get to her feet. She fell back with a whimper before she could get her paws under her, and Waka quickly pinned her, humming soothingly.

"Calm, my furry friend. Now, what is wrong?" She rolled her eyes to meet his and whined, her ears flattening themselves. She twisted her head to the side and licked his hand reassuringly.

"Forgive me, beloved, but it's going to take more than that to reassure me. Something's obviously wrong. Is it Nippon? Is leaving there hurting you?" She whined again. Issun had bounced back into the room unnoticed, and watched them, concerned.

"Yo, prophet guy. She's been real tired, right? I'd say it's the distance. She should be fine, she'll just be tired until we find another planet. The presence of life and people should perk her right up. She's still got her faithful believers in Nippon, but being disconnected from it all doesn't seem to agree with her at all. How close are we to our first point of call?" The prophet stroked the wolf's ears as she sunk back into slumber.

"Another week. You sure about this, Issun?" The ponticle blinked.

"You're asking me? Wow, is the universe ending, or something?" The prophet's voice was sharp when he replied.

"I'm worried, Issun, so don't joke around. I've known ma cherie here for hundreds of years. We've come a long way, and I won't let her die again over something like this!"

"Wow, chill. I apologize. But trust me on this, I'm an envoy after all. She'll be fine, you'll see. As soon as we set down on some new world, it'll be like someone lit a fire under her tail." Issun bounced over, and settled once more into the wolf's soft fur.

"'Sides, furball here's got the right idea. A nap sounds nice right about now." Waka shook his head at the tiny creature, and with one last look at the sleeping goddess, moved back to the helm.


	2. Strange New World

**Chapter two: Strange New World**

**AN- For those wondering, I am reposting this in chapters, because people seem to prefer that.**

It was a lovely planet, a shimmering emerald and sapphire jewel turning slowly in the dark velvet of space. Waka and Issun both admired it as they hovered above it.

"Sparkly. So, we gonna gate crash, or what?" In a practiced move, the man ignored the ponticle and activated all of the security measures, and shimmering lights wrapped around the great ship as Waka took the controls and directed the ship towards the world below.

"Look out, new world! Better lock all your treasures up tight!" Issun cheered undaunted by his companion's silence. Behind them, unnoticed, the wolf began to stir, stretching her limbs out, her eyes flickering.

The world was very heavily populated. Waka watched the monitors, trying to decide on a landing spot. There were numerous cities, and their first port of call was obviously information gathering. Waka smiled, running a thumb over the hilt of one of his blades, looking forward to whatever challenges this world offered. Finally he decided on a large city that was full of unexpected pockets of magic. Plenty of people to talk too, and places to hide if things went south.

Perfect.

Happily, the great ark could wait for them all in the skies above their chosen destination, 'London', cloaked and well protected from any curious citizens. With an armful of twitching wolf- the first movements she'd made in days- Waka strode over to the exit and punched in a code. There was a humming sound, then the rainbow path appeared once more.

"Call me crazy, but aren't the people here going to be a little bit curious about the sudden, random appearance of this pathway in the sky?"

"No."

"No?

"No."

"This I gotta hear. Go on, impress me." Before Waka could say anything, however, the bundle in his arms gave a sudden, decisive twitch. With this warning, the warrior had just enough time to loosen his hold and lean back as Amaratesu catapulted herself out of his arms, hit the rainbow pathway and took off in an excited blur.

"Ma cherie! Stay right there! This world may not be safe for you." Issun agreed, sitting on Waka's shoulder instead of his customary position on Ammy.

"Yeah, very few people look at a wolf and go 'look, a god'! Generally, it's 'ahhh, a wolf, somebody kill it!" Shaking his head, the Tao master trotted down the path and leapt onto the top of a building. The rainbow road shimmered and twisted away into nothingness.

Amaratesu rumbled happily, stretching luxuriously. She shook out her heavy fur, yawning. She leapt easily off of the great building, landing with her paws firmly on the earth. Instantly, the world lit up for her, like someone switching a television from black and white to color. Her markings became more pronounced, her eyes brightened and her stance firmed.

"Collar. Bell. Why can't you stay where we can see you? This is a strange new world, after all." She waved her tail a few times, turning around and looking at her exasperated friends. Issun transferred himself from Waka's shoulder to her fur in an easy bound.

"Yeah, furball. We know you can kick butt, and all, but let us in on the fun, k?" She looked utterly innocent.

"Don't even try it, 'great mother, origin of all that is good'. You make a crappy liar." She huffed with silent laughter.

"Well, here we are. Until we've got the lay of the land, let's let the prophet here ask all the questions. It'll be good for him." Waka raised a brow.

"Me? I'm flattered, Issun. I'll try to resist the temptation to sell you to a zoo, or something."

"Hysterical. Try it and I'll set my friend Ammy here on you. She's got sharp teeth." The two had to shut up as Ammy started forward for the mouth of the alley.

Look out, London.

It seemed to go okay, although passerby's rolled their eyes dubiously at the white wolf, but in the end wrote her off as a dog and skirted around them. The city was a maze of incredible buildings, a sprawl of different shapes and styles. For a while the three simply wandered around looking at everything.

"Gah," Issun hissed into Ammy's ear.

"Check out the lack of greenery here. Way too much steel and brick. Later, we should run wild, put flowers everywhere. Really improve the scenery." The wolf sneezed agreement.

Waka had been watching people passing them with interest. His swords seemed to gather a great deal of sideways looks and negative attention, so he raised a shield around himself, and subtly altered his clothes so that they blended more efficiently. Amaratesu was pressed firmly against his side, fur standing on end. She didn't seem to approve of the city at all, and looking back, Waka was amused to see that flowers and grass had suddenly begun to take over the cobblestones and the corners. Coughing to hide his laughter, the immortal warrior continued on, observing his surroundings with interest.

"Miss? Sorry to interrupt, but I'm a little lost, I'm afraid." Targeting a couple of girls drinking out of fine china cups outside of a little café, Waka unleashed a harmless smile, French accent thickening.

"I'm looking for a hotel or something, but I need one that will take my fine furry friend here. Do you think you can help me?" The red-head managed to tear her eyes away from the charming blonde man that just had to be a model, and noticed for the first time, the great white beast at his side watching her with burning eyes. She blinked, surprised, her mouth opening.

"I…I, that is, um, with the…dog?"

"Wolf," Waka corrected serenely. She swallowed.

"Wolf, then. I don't know, it might be better if you put it in a kennel for the night."

"Her," Waka corrected, this time a touch reprovingly.

"Sorry, her. Your best bet would be a caravan park, some of them take animals, but there aren't many of them around here. Hold on." The girl turned to her star-eyed friend and began a rapid-fire exchange that was nearly impossible to interpret.

"Try Irvan's, on the corner of Skarsland and South. It's only a few blocks. I think they allow pets." Waka smiled, and she melted.

"Thank-you so very much. We're new here in town- do you think you could tell me about this fascinating city?" She lit up, as if all her dreams had just come true. Heaving with silent laughter, Ammy curled up at his feet, with Issun drooling on her fur over the two girls at the table.

The main problem was not that they lacked money, but that they lacked anything remotely resembling the monetary system of the world they were on. However, Ammy was a god, and Waka was powerful in his own right, and between them, they should be able to convince an establishment to let them stay.

It turned out to be disgustingly easy, since in a twist of fate, 'Irvan's' had a very attractive female secretary. A little magic and a lot of flattering later, they had a room, with Emily, the secretary cooing over the 'pretty little doggy'. Ammy could only rub her head against her hand, since she'd had to snap Issun up to keep him from proclaiming his everlasting love. Once in the safety of their room, she spat out the ponticle, who burst into a rant, about being covered in wolf slobber once again. Ammy trotted over to the window and stuck her head out, hearing the cacophony of animal voices from the other rooms.

"Ammy," Waka said serenely from his position on the bed.

"You're supposed to be kept in the little run adjacent, and you have set hours in the exercise court out back. They don't supply food and apparently I'm supposed to keep you muzzled." There was a pause.

"Oh, and it's illegal to own a wolf. So, you're now a dog." Ammy tilted her head to the side, and then glanced out the window towards the cramped run, obviously built for a much smaller dog, then at Waka on the bed. She made a huffing sound, then bounded easily across the room and landed with perfect precision on Waka's stomach. He half sat up with a pained gasp as the breath was driven from his lungs. Issun burst into hysterics.

"Ohh. Ouch, ma cherie. Of course you'll ignore them. I don't blame you. But I'm innocent!" She rolled her eyes at him.

"Hey! I am!" She rolled off him and made herself comfortable on the pillow. He snorted, but tangled one hand with easy familiarity in her fur, wrapping the other around the hilt of a blade.

They left the pitiful lodgings as the sun began to rise, wandering around the strange new city they had arrived in. Waka was currently interested in the magic spots, that, to his great amusement, seemed to be primarily trying to hide themselves. It confused him no end, until he noticed that the bright glow he and his companions saw so clearly was completely ignored by passing people. He sat down on a bench, watching with a perplexed expression as people wandered by, never once glancing at the glowing spot he had found- a ratty little inn by the name of 'The Leaky Cauldron.'

Ammy seemed as confused as he was, sitting placidly by his feet, inspecting the shape of the magic. She came to the same conclusion- this visible magic was built for concealment, and the people of the planet were obviously unaware of it. Well, not all of them. After fifteen minutes, a man dressed in a dark cloak strolled by and walked straight into the pub- the first they had seen so far.

Waka sat up. Ammy yipped, startled, and a sleepy Issun sat up with an exclamation.

"What? What happened?"

"Well, that was interesting. Well, no time like the present. Let's go and have a look at what all these people seem unable to." Waka got to his feet, and followed by the Sun Goddess and her tiny envoy, walked boldly across the street and straight into the pub.

"There's two ways we can play this," Waka offered as they crossed the road, full of the nasty smelling metal transportation vehicles the people here preferred.

"We can be the clueless foreigners, stumbling in by chance, or play it straight." Ammy snorted.

"Yeah, but I had to ask. We'll give 'em a chance. Play it friendly."

Tom, barkeeper of the wizarding bar The Leaky Cauldron, had only just started for the day. Nonetheless, a few early risers nursed the wizarding equivalent of caffeine as they sat at the bar trying to get ready for the day. Most of his customers came from Diagon Alley, so when the front door chimed for the second time that morning, he looked up in interest. The lights were dim, with the day only just beginning, and he didn't get a good look at his visitors until they walked closer to the bar, looking around with obvious interest. His jaw dropped. He'd served dwarfs, half-giants, and werewolves. Even the occasional vampire dropped by. But he admitted to himself that the two that had just walked in might just be the weirdest couple yet. A man with long golden hair stood at his bar, and Tom knew by the intense shade of his hair that he couldn't be human. His eyes were a bright blue, his skin a pale white. Two swords were slung unobtrusively at his waist. At his side, a massive white wolf walked calmly. It was clearly not a normal beast, for it's too white fur was marked with twisting tattoos in purple-red. The beast's eyes were the color of shifting fire, and it bore a strange rotating necklace, and a shining shield trailing fire. Something about the wolf kept the barkeeper's attention for a long moment, and it was only the sound of a clearing throat that caught his attention.

"Sorry?" The man seemed amused, and when he spoke, his voice held a trace of a French accent.

"Quite alright. I was just wandering by when I noticed this place. It…stood out. Very bright. Oddly enough, no one else seemed to be able to see it. Strange, no?" Waka watched the barkeeper's eyes widen.

"Thought we'd have a look. Very different place you've got here." Tom stuttered, then coughed.

"Thank-you. Um, I'm afraid you really shouldn't be in here. You seem to be…that is…"

"Oh, is this a private establishment? Or is it just me?"

Waka shouldn't have been teasing him, but birds have to fly, and prophet's must be prophets. Everything should have played out alright, in the end, especially since his pet was obviously of a magical nature. However, Waka was playing at being normal- a Muggle, although he didn't know it. He would have stopped before long, but in one of those curious twists of fate, an irritated ministry official at risk of loosing his job over the whole You-Know-Who scandal, was sitting further along the bar drinking down a quick shot before he headed off for his hearing. The bar kept the wolf hidden, and listening to the conversation between Tom and the newcomer, Jeffrey, a low level official, jumped to conclusions.

It's no secret that Muggle's are viewed with contempt in the wizarding world. So Jeffrey's actions were not all that unusual- and worsened by his bad mood.

"What are you doing in here, Muggle?" He said with contempt, getting to his feet and drawing his wand. The muggle turned to face him, raising an eyebrow.

"Muggle? Funny, I didn't tell you my name. Bad guess, by the way." Jeffrey was just about to head off to a hearing that would probably end his career. He had zero patience.

"Whatever. Just stand still like a good little sheep- _Obliviate_!"

Several things happened, and they happened very quickly.

The 'muggle' leapt to the side with impossible speed and grace, pulling out a blade faster than an eye-blink. The spell splattered uselessly against the bar, but before Jeffrey could even process what had just happened, something bright and impossibly fast blurred over the bar and slammed into him. Blazing like a brilliant star, whatever had hit him knocked him to the floor, hard, and then bone white teeth were inches from his face, and eyes that literally burned were inches from his own.

The brilliant light resolved itself into a wolf, snowy white, lit up from within. Strange red-purple tattoos marked it's forehead, and it seemed to be trailing flame.

She growled.

A tense silence fell.

Waka slowly straightened from his crouch, all traces of humor completely gone from his expression. His eyes were hard, merciless. Every eye in the bar was fixed on him as he spun his sword lazily around his wrist.

"Now, that wasn't nice at all. I don't appreciate people trying to hit me with strange magic- and neither does my friend Ammy here."

Obviously he was no muggle, for he knew about magic.

"Now, I walked in here because someone had done a very bad job of hiding it with magic, and I'll admit I was curious. I even gave you the benefit of the doubt." He shook his head.

"And within less than a minute, somebody is already trying to attack me." He spun the blade easily.

"How very, very sad. What a strange place we have found ourselves in, my friends." The people in the bar exchanged nervous glances, discretely moving for wands. Waka, of course, noticed.

"Oh no, none of that now. I'm afraid I don't trust you anymore, so hands away from your pockets." There's always one, and in this situation, our petty official had a friend, an equally screwed clerk who had his hearing later on in the day. His eyes were fixed on the wolf with it's teeth inches away from his friend's throat.

"Reduc-" Before our poor, foolish moron could do more than point his wand at the wolf, a blade went sailing across the room and cut right through it. In the same, smooth motion, Waka blurred across the room, his other blade coming to rest lightly at his throat.

A single drop of blood rolled down his neck.

"I don't like being attacked. It irritates me- especially from little men like you. But you know what irritates me even more?" The clerk's eyes could not have gotten bigger. Waka's voice lowered to a growl.

"When people try to hurt my beloved Ammy, here. That makes me mad."

"Yeah," a high-pitched voice agreed.

"You have no idea how bad an idea that was." To the collectively astonished eyes of the people in the bar, a glowing green ball leaped from the growling wolf's head and bounced over to the bar.

"Yo, barkeep. You got anything good to drink?"

It was clearly going to be one of those days, Tom concluded, as he stared at the tiny glowing green person that was bouncing impatiently in front of him.

"Yo, Barkeep! Ya listening?" Tom licked his lips, automatically taking a few swipes at the grimy bar top with the rag perpetually in his hands.

"Sir? Sorry about the, uh, confusion. If you could kindly put your- sword- away, and get your pet to let that gentleman up?" He swallowed as hard blue eyes shifted from their minute examination of his captive to his face. Then the unknown man smiled brightly, and all trace of danger vanished.

"Oh, but of course! I just know this confusion can be cleared up right away. One thing, however- Ammy is not my pet. Once this imbecile here apologizes, I'm sure ma cherie will let him up."

Tom fiddled with his wand under cover of his bar, but definitely didn't want a blade at his throat, either.

Jeffrey clearly didn't want to apologize, at all, but the presence of very sharp fangs at his throat were convincing. He stuttered, caught between anger and fear, while Waka watched on placidly from where he leaned against the wall.

"By Merlin, Jeff," a voice hissed from somewhere in the room, "just apologize already before she rips your throat out!"

"I'm sorry!" She seemed to be wanting something else.

"I won't do it again!" He blurted in a sudden burst of inspiration. She growled approvingly, and backed off of him, stalking off to stand in front of Waka, flashing her teeth at the occupants of the bar once before subsiding and looking as innocent and harmless as a fluffy little kitten.

Issun chose that moment to pipe up again, since being in a bar without drinking seemed to be causing him physical pain.

"Great. Now that we're all friends, what about getting a thirsty little ponticle a drink?!

Waka strode back to the bar, and without a backwards glance at the petrified man on the floor, took a seat directly in front of Tom.

"Are things always this tense here, my friend, or has something happened? As I said, we're new here, perhaps you wouldn't mind filling us in?" Tom shot the smiling man a nervous look, not fooled by the man's easy manner.

"Dark times, mister, very dark times," he sidestepped uneasily.

"How unfortunate. What has caused this display of bad manners?" Tom was truly astonished.

"How can you not have heard about it?" He glanced around and his voice lowered dramatically.

"You-Know-Who! He's back!" Waka blinked.

"No, I don't know who. What are you talking about?"

Giving up on the bartender, Issun bounced behind the bar and began to inspect the bottles there.


	3. It's Magic

**Chapter three: It's magic**

Tom the barkeeper was a mountain of information, but prying that information out proved a tough job, since Tom, understandably, didn't trust them. He did divulge some general information about the state of the wizarding world, and, in hushed whispers, the dark lord. When Waka wandered off with a thoughtful wolf and tipsy ponticle in tow to inspect the wall that led to Diagon Alley, it was with both eyebrows raised.

"A dark lord terrorizing this country, huh. Guess wherever we go, ma petite, we are doomed to live interesting lives." Amaratesu huffed agreement.

"This is just too funny. An entrance hidden in a wall? What a quaint people." Waka drew a blade and began to poke at the bricks. Ammy spared him a glance before she manipulated Power Slash to tap the correct brick. There was a grinding sound, and then the bricks began to shift, rearranging until an archway appeared, behind which lay Diagon Alley.

"Touché, ma cherie."

"Like something out of a fairytale. Sad. They actually use cauldrons, look. Aaah… a wand shop- so that's what that was." With lots of commentary between an amused Waka and a hyper Issun, the three wound their way among the shops, ending up before a massive white marble building, a bank. Shooting the goblins standing guard a curious glance, Waka strolled a few more feet before whipping around to give them a blank stare.

"Goblins? Here? So that colony did make it this far!" The swordsman began to laugh, hard, one hand around his stomach, as a perplexed wolf wound her way around him, barking.

"Greed really does pay off sometimes, I suppose." Ammy, irritated, finally jumped up and took his hand in her mouth, not biting but holding firm.

"Sorry, sorry. Just a bit of a surprise. Goblins aren't native here, you know. Little gold obsessed buggers live quite a way away. In their never-ending quest to horde all of the money in the universe, they set out from their home world to establish themselves in other societies." He began to laugh again.

Issun lit up at the mention of gold.

"Money? Gold? Where? What are we waiting for, Ammy? Let's liberate some!" The ponticle was leaping up and down with excitement. Unimpressed, the wolf merely twitched an ear. Waka coughed.

"Ahh…my little bouncing friend. A word of caution. Goblins are a truly obsessed race, interested only in battle and money. Don't aggravate them, they get really creative when it comes to their valuables." Issun came out of his daze and noticed the inscription above the massive doors.

"Enter stranger, but take heed….sin of greed? What's with these people?" Pouting and outraged, the little ponticle launched himself into a rant.

Waka began to approach the doors.

"Let's see if they remember anything about my people…or you, ma cherie." Nodding to the guards, the man led the way into the bank.

The interior was every bit as impressive as the outside, with soaring white columns and elaborate carvings. Waka stood in the foyer, thumbs hooked in his belt, as he looked around. Amaratesu sat by his side, head at an angle as she tried to find the roof.

Waka smiled.

"This place could have been transported straight from their home-world." A goblin approached them, looking very superior.

"How may I…" The goblin broke off, having actually looked at them. His mouth gaped open, his large, bulbous eyes widening. The goblin bowed hurriedly, and backed up amid a flurry of his native language. Waka followed, bemused.

Whispers followed them.

"…lunar realm…warrior…" The wolf's ears flickered, and she let her burning gaze roam over the customers of the bank as well as the goblins. The goblin that had approached them, was hurrying back, this time with three others. They came to a stop before the group, studying Waka.

"Warrior of the Moon Tribe, long has it been since we met one of your kind. Welcome to Gringott's." Evidently, they did remember. Waka drew himself up, eyes flashing.

"Well met, elders of Gar'anhash. However, I am self-exiled, I count myself a member of the lunar realm no longer. I am Tao master Waka, and I offer my greetings on this day on behalf of my companions." Ammy chose that moment to walk out from behind Waka to inspect the goblins with curious eyes. The goblin in the lead turned a pasty shade of white, and fell to his knees.

"Holy mother! Divine one, I am your servant!" The bank went dead silent as goblins whipped around to stare- and then abandoned their work and fell to their knees. Ammy shook her head with a whine, but her brilliant glow increased as their fervent faith touched her. She paced forward and bobbed her white head, as the humans in the bank looked around in confusion. Flowers briefly wrapped around the kneeling goblins, then faded. Bowing, the goblin got to his feet.

"You travel with this warrior, divine one?" The goblin nodded to Waka with deep respect.

"Many, many years have passed since any of my race have beheld your light, Okami Amataresu, but never have we forgotten what you have done. If you ever have need of us, you need only send word." The wolf, flames flickering around her, inclined her head again, and stepped back to stand by Waka's side.

Slowly, business resumed in the bank, although goblins began to appear at the fringes to stare at the wolf and the warrior. Waka, lips twitching as he stared at his companion, shook his head as he stepped forward and began to discuss the trade of their money for something that had value in this new world.

"Something very strange happened at Gringott's today, Albus."

"Strange, Minerva? It is, after all, Gringott's…" The witch sighed.

"Yes, Albus, strange. Apparently, an odd man and a white wolf entered the bank and were greeted quite…differently." She paused, frowning.

"They were polite, but cautious, until they saw the wolf." She shook her head in confusion.

"They all but fell over themselves to help after they saw the animal. Severus told me they called the man a warrior, of something called the moon tribe, and kept greeting the wolf as divine."

Albus, who had been flicking through a leather-bound book as she talked, abruptly sat up.

"Moon tribe, you said?" The witch blinked again.

"That's what I said. Why, is there some significance?" The old wizard stood up and began to pace, stroking his beard.

"An old tale, Minerva, a very old tale, indeed."

All in all, it had been a very interesting day, Waka mused as he lay on the bed with his hands hooked together behind his head. Ammy snoozed at the foot of the bed, nose tucked under her tail. The goblins had been much more forthcoming than Tom had been, especially after seeing Ammy.

_The Dark lord Voldemort…_

Yes, much more forthcoming. Ammy had grown increasingly agitated as the goblins told them about the first rising, and his fall at the hands of an innocent child. Whether he liked it or not, her reaction had told him all he needed to know. They were going to get involved. Well, at least they wouldn't get bored. Like that was possible with Ammy and Issun running around, anyway. The wolf had taken it upon herself to do any number of odd tasks already- rescuing a kneazle from a tree for a little girl, subduing a rampage of Monster books of monsters, and starting a takeover of flowers and greenery in the building orientated Alley.

Boredom? Hardly. But a self-styled dark lord? He let his fingers brush over the hilt of one of his blades. A new world to explore- but one that was in the grip of terror.

A nice relaxing vacation, indeed. But then, if he'd wanted that, he would have stayed on the Celestial Plain. Amaratesu whined in her sleep, and he wondered what she was dreaming about. He sat up, and looked at her fondly.

"A long way we've come together, little one. No need to fret- I know everything will turn out okay. Between the two- or three, I suppose- of us, we can handle just about anything." He leant forward and brushed the tips of his fingers over the markings on her face, then lay back with a sigh. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

The sight of Albus Dumbledore in Diagon Alley prompted a great deal of relief from its patrons, who felt safe in the old wizard's presence. The wily old man smiled at everyone, and stopped at two places- Ollivander's and Gringott's. Neither were all that forthcoming about the mysterious new visitors to the Alley, and finally Albus decided that there was nothing for it than meeting them himself. To this effect, he dropped by the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom was polishing his glasses and having an animated discussion with an old witch about cold remedies. Albus seated himself at the bar, and humming softly, began to listen intently to the discussions taking place around him.

"Yeah, that's what I heard, that Potter boy…"

"…you're mad! Fifty galleons for spider-silk?"

"…come on, Hage, get real. Nothing but crazy rumors…"

"Headmaster! What a surprise! What can I get for you?" Dumbledore jumped a little, then turned twinkling eyes onto Tom.

"Just a gillywater, thanks Tom. Actually, I had a couple of questions I wanted to ask you."

Meanwhile, Waka and his companion were exploring the darker recesses of Knockturn Alley. This took a brief turn for the worse, when a group of smugglers tried to kidnap Ammy to sell for potions parts, but after a few very impressive snarls, they found that the man with the very blonde hair was very good with a sword, and that wind and trees kept popping out of nowhere…anyway, after a couple of them died, they were left alone. Interestingly, flowers seemed to follow them wherever they went. Knockturn Alley, shady as it was, looked a little odd with flowers blooming happily from every other corner…

"Odd," Albus noted to his companion, deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall, "I don't remember there being so many flowers last time I was in Diagon Alley." The transfiguration teacher looked around.

"You're right, Albus. It's probably the Weasley twins. Those two…have you seen their latest products? I had Filch in my office yesterday, practically in hysterics, waving about that list of his." She sighed, shaking her head.

"So you want to tell me why we're wandering around Diagon Alley looking for some strange man and a wolf, when we could be at Hogwarts overseeing the new wards?" The old wizard shot her an amused look.

"Patience, my dear, patience. Just a hunch of mine. In any case, this man is a newcomer to the wizarding world, and in a time when it's not very healthy to be so. I would feel much better if I could just meet him and see if we can't help him out." She raised her brow, but years of being deputy headmistress had taught her that it was impossible to argue with him.

"What if they're dangerous?" She asked, resigned.

"They deserve the benefit of the doubt, Minerva, they've been here for days and they've hardly gone on a killing spree." (The incident in Knockturn so does not count.)

The two continued down the Alley.

"Well," Issun proclaimed.

"That was a decidedly shady place. But they sold some pretty neat stuff." The trio wandered out of Knockturn Alley, carrying a few interesting trinkets.

"And did you see how bug-eyed they got when Ammy gave you some of those Demon Fangs to sell? Priceless, I tell you." Waka stopped, turning around with a frown as he noticed that Ammy was no longer following.

"Ma petite?" The wolf had her head raised, and seemed to be listening intently. Suddenly she leapt forward and began to weave her way through the crowd, a cursing Waka on her heels.

"Bell! Collar! See if I don't, ma cherie!"

The wolf kept going.

"Oh _my_." McGonagall breathed in wonder.

"And just who might you be?" She was talking to the magnificent white wolf that had erupted out of the crowd and sat herself before them, tail wagging wildly. This was no doubt the wolf she'd heard about- but no one had mentioned how brilliantly she glowed, the strange markings, or the- weapons?- she bore. The flaming eyes of the magical creature- one she'd never heard about- were bright and friendly. Albus leaned forward in fascination.

"Albus, have you ever heard of…"

"Never." At that moment, a cursing blonde dodged out of the crowd.

"Ammy, there you are! Are you trying to give me a heart attack running off like that?"

"Yeah, furball," a voice pitched in from between the wolf's ears, where a glowing green something could be seen.

"A little warning would be nice." The two teachers gaped a little. First the odd wolf, then the golden haired man, then a glowing spot of light…

There was no way he was human. Minerva would have said he was a veela, but they were all female. His hair was simply too bright, his face too perfect. He seemed indignant, barely sparing them a glance as he reached out and scratched the great animal's head fearlessly.

"Excuse me, sir," Albus said, "but I take it this beautiful animal here is yours?" Waka blinked, looking up from where he had been scolding the goddess in French, and stared at them.

"A common misconception, I'm afraid. She's my companion. Her name is Amataresu, but we just call her Ammy."

"Or furball," the spot of green light offered.

"_We _call her Ammy, my little bouncing friend. _You _call her furball. I'm surprised she hasn't eaten you yet." The ball of light snorted.

"Of course, forgive me. Just out of curiosity, I must ask- what species are you? I've never heard of a pixie or fairy that could speak English." The bouncing ball of light began to bounce higher, it's voice taking on an angry tone.

"Hey! Watch who you're calling pixie old man! The name's Issun- I'm a wandering artist, I'll have you know!" Minerva swallowed a laugh.

"Sorry, Issun." Dumbledore managed a short bow.

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I'm a ponticle. Not surprising you haven't heard of us. We don't roam often."

"Fascinating. So what brought you all here to Diagon Alley?" The tiny artist snorted, throwing Waka a glance.

"Boredom. What brought you here?"

Albus and Minerva exchanged glances.

"These are dark times," the old wizard began, but Issun cut him off.

"Yeah, we keep hearing that. Believe me, we ain't dark lords in disguise. We ain't even- whaddya call yourselves? Witches?- anyway, we ain't all that. We're just getting the lay of the land, grandpa." Minerva smothered another laugh. It was impossible, looking at the tiny irate artist, to even suspect him of being evil.

"So unless you've got something to say, I'd say we've both got somewhere else to be." The ponticle leaped back up onto the wolf's head, nestling comfortably within her fur.

"You're new here, obviously."

"Didn't I say that?"

"Oh do calm down, my little bouncing friend. No need to be rude. They carry no taint within them. We can spare a few moments for conversation, no?"

"Thank-you young man. What was your name again?"

"Huh. I haven't told you my name, wizard. And I can bet I'm a lot older than you are. But if you insist…my name is Waka, Tao Master. Now let us cut to the chase. What is it you are wanting to ask?" Albus cut to the chase.

"Are you a member of the Moon Tribe, Tao master Waka?" The warrior stared at him in surprise for a moment, then began to laugh.

"And from a human, as well. You surprise me, wizard. Tell you what, I'll answer your question if you answer mine." The wizard raised a brow in interest, while Minerva watched in fascination.

"Agreed."

"Very well. Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I am self-exiled however, and have been for some time. Now for my question. What do you see when you look at my friend Ammy here?" The wizard tugged lightly at his beard, watching the golden-haired man for a moment. Waka smiled a thin, sharp smile.

"Ah- no cheating. Trying to read my mind is neither courteous nor acceptable. Now, my question?" Both eyebrows raised, the wizard turned once more to look at the wolf that was watching him carefully from the ground, eyes sharp and full of intelligence.

"Look carefully, wizard."

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he said absently as she knelt to get a better look at Amataresu. The wolf looked him over easily, and gave a quick wave of her tail, but otherwise offered no movement.

Albus had seen many, many kinds of magical animals, and read about many more. Never, however, had he read about anything like what he was seeing now. She- and it was clearly female, her smooth lines somehow dainty- was too brilliant, as if she radiated light. Her markings were natural, and her eyes were shifting pools of fire. She bore a strange shifting necklace, and the shield that floated over her back trailed flames.

"A white wolf that radiates light…I've never seen anything like her. What kind of magical creature is she? A guardian of some kind?"

"Not bad, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Close, but not good enough. Maybe next time we meet you can try again." Before Albus could say anything, Waka walked off, the wolf trailing behind. As the two teachers watched them leave, the wizard noticed something that sent chills racing down his spine.

Wherever the wolf walked, flowers grew, glorying briefly before fading away.

Waka was getting sick of Diagon Alley. He was sick of prejudiced witches and wizards, he was sick of people trying to kill Ammy for potion's parts, and he was sick of the stares. Ammy had finished her campaign to put flowers on every street corner, and the warrior got a kick out of watching the magic users trying to get rid of them, only to find them reappearing the instant they managed to banish them. Not to mention the couple of trees Ammy had thrown in at the occasional corner. Like their mortal magic was any match for a god's.

It was time to leave. They'd heard about fights among the giants up in the mountains, disputes among the werewolves, and some real carnage among the vampires. This world was full of diverse species, and they didn't get along with themselves, let alone each other. It looked like they had their hands full- or paws full.


	4. The BoyWholived

**Chapter Four: The Boy-Who-Lived**

Harry sat up with a yawn, trying to remember the dream he'd been having. All he could seem to recall was a bright light, and he gave up with a sigh as he fished for glasses and squinted at the clock.

_10.00?_

He eeped and leapt out of the bed, knowing that very soon he would be picked up and taken to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He detested the thought of being cooped up in the Black family home, the house that Sirius had been trapped in, and hated so much.

And now Sirius was dead. Harry shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and began purposefully packing his things, Hedwig hooting in concern from her cage.

"I'm alright, girl." She flared her wings, unconvinced. Finally, Harry pried up the loose floorboard and began to empty the space of his most precious items, cuddling his Invisibility cloak to his chest for a moment, and flaring his fingertips over the leather face of his photo album.

"Still alive, girl. We're still alive." And with that comment, Harry finished up his packing, and sat on the bed to stare out the window, waiting for someone to arrive and take him away.

Remus Lupin was tired. Physically, from the bone-wrenching transformation that had taken place only a few nights ago, and emotionally, from the loss of the last of his dearest friends. Sirius, who he'd thought the traitor for so many years. He'd gotten a second chance, and now Sirius was dead and gone. Now only Harry was left of his Pack, his last reason to keep living. He could feel Tonk's concerned gaze between his shoulder-blades, and smell her anxiety. He turned and flashed her an empty smile of reassurance. The scent of fear increased. He sighed.

"I'm fine Tonks. Don't worry about me. I just hope Harry's coping okay." The two of them were of to pick up Harry James Potter, the young, reluctant savior of the wizarding world. Who had been left alone with his grief for the holidays. Remus respected Albus Dumbledore, quite a lot, actually, but there were times it was all he could do to not throw him out of a window.

_Of course, let's leave Harry alone to grieve locked up in that horrible house with people that wish he would just up and die. Why not?_

No, Remus was not a happy werewolf. The young auror at his heels flashed him another concerned glance as they walked up Privet Drive to number four.

"Nice roses," Tonks tried for conversation gamely.

"Yes." Only because Harry's forced to work every day for those useless muggles, Remus thought darkly. How many times, watching the boy from across the street, had he seen the boy bent over the flowerbeds in the blazing sun, watching Harry work while his fat cousin lolled nearby and ate ice-cream?

Control. Just because he wanted to transform and rip them all limb from limb for hurting his pup- _for not loving him_- he could not. Would not.

However, some good old fashioned cursing probably wouldn't really hurt anyone.

Remus Lupin was a true Marauder, all right.

The last.

Harry followed on Remus's heels, trying hard not to look at number 12 Grimauld place. Tonks kept up a rapid flow of conversation that neither the werewolf or the Boy-Who-Lived heard.

"Moony?" Harry jumped and turned scarlet as soon as the word left his mouth, appalled and confused as to where it had come from.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I just…are you alright?" The werewolf paused, the tension easing from his spine slightly as he turned his face away from the house towards the youth.

"It's alright, Harry. I'm not your professor any more, after all. Moony's fine. I prefer it, actually." Harry nodded, inspecting the pavement, still embarrassed.

"Pro- Moony, do you know how long we're going to be staying here for?"

"Only a few days, Harry."

"Oh." Harry searched for something to say as they approached the door.

"Do I get to go to Diagon Alley this year?" He said hopefully. Remus paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

"Maybe, Harry. Things have been pretty panicked lately- but maybe". Harry nodded, and followed Remus inside while Tonks brought up the rear.

Meanwhile, in a lovely but war-torn mountain scene, a group of very, very large giants hefting clubs stared in disbelief at the brilliantly white wolf with the beads in it's mouth that had just cut through the air between them.

As usual, Molly went into quiet hysterics as she took in Harry's pale, thin appearance.

"Oh, those terrible muggles! Look at you, Harry! Come on, dear, I've got something warm in the kitchen." Indeed, there were traces of flour on her apron, and she took a hold of his elbow and drew him out of the hall.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Harry sighed. She never changed.

"Harry?" There was a sudden stampede of feet as a mob of red-headed children, as well as a bushy-haired girl, caught his scent and began to charge…Harry eeped, ducking behind Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh Harry!" No such luck. He staggered back under Hermione's weight, as she flung herself into his arms.

"Hi, Hermione."

"Hey mate!"

"Hi, Ron."

Before Harry could be ambushed by the twins, Mrs. Weasley came to his rescue, wading through children with the ease of long practice.

Enough! You can bombard the poor dear with questions after he's eaten." And grasping his elbow again, pulled him into the kitchen.

Order meetings had long been a source of interest and contention with the children inhabiting number 12, and this year was no different. However, now the twins were Order members, and Mrs. Weasley had wizened up to the uses of extendable ears. People had been leery of the Weasley Twins since their second year at Hogwarts, but people continuously underestimated the Golden Trio. Harry in particular was sick of being kept out of the loop, especially considering the previous year's events. He understood that Voldemort was after him, had known this for years, and he knew that everyone on every side of the war was trying to use him. He no longer really cared for the particulars or the excuses, no matter how pretty. Harry wanted out of it. He wanted to make his own choices, even if it got him killed. He felt like he was constantly drowning, clawing for solid ground.

Bottom line: he was listening in on the order meeting. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not pressed up against the door, however. As evidenced by any given year at Hogwarts, the three could get very creative. An Invisibility cloak is useful, but not enough to sneak into a meeting of a secret organization. People forgot that the Black house was much more than it seemed- more than Sirius's prison, it was an ancestral home for witches and wizards who made shady life choices. Bored children kept out of the swing of things with a grudge have plenty of time to explore. The trio doubted that the order members that used the house were aware of the secret passages in the house. Harry found a very useful one by accidentally falling into a portrait- something he hadn't even known was possible. After a few terrifying moments in which two parts of the golden trio panicked, they found that only Harry could access the strange portal. However, by holding onto Harry, who was after all the legal owner of the house, recognized by law and by magic, his two friends could go with him. This discovery turned out to be much more useful than the odd passage between rooms. This portal allowed the trio to travel between portraits anywhere in the house- completely hidden. They discovered an additional three 'hidden' rooms just on the first day of their discovery. Within a week the three had 'cased' the entire house, and with their ability to listen in on any room from the safety of the portraits, the Order of the Phoenix never had a chance of staying un-heard.

"Is everybody here?" Dumbledore settled himself comfortably into one of the armchairs. Harry bared his teeth at him, annoyed with the old wizard.

Yes, the boy thought. Everybody is definitely here.

There were murmurs of agreement around the room. The Weasley Twins shot looks at their parents, then cleared their throats.

"What about Harry? Shouldn't he have the right to be present?" Harry favored the Twins with a smile. Dumbledore, however, merely sighed.

"We've had this discussion before," the wizard rebuked. The twins seemed unaffected.

"And we've disagreed before. Whether you like it or not, everything comes down to Harry. And we sincerely doubt that he'll just let you lead him blindly. Look at what happened last year." Remus grunted agreement, but said nothing, having argued himself hoarse many times before. Dumbledore would not be moved.

"Enough. I've already explained why Harry can't be present. Let him enjoy the last days of his youth." Quite a few in the room stared at the Headmaster in disbelief.

"Now, this is just an update on the state of affairs in our world. Kingsley? What have you learned about the distribution of the auror forces?" The dark auror shook his head with a sigh.

"I had hoped that with Fudge gone, we might have a chance in that department. Unfortunately, our new Minister is just as self centered, although at least he's making moves to distribute us more effectively. I've heard that the Unmentionable's have been called out, but for what I don't have clearance to know." The trio listened avidly as the adults in the room continued to discuss their actions against Voldemort. Most of it was hardly glamorous, but the three eavesdroppers listened avidly. Then, as things were wrapping up and the trio were beginning to yawn, there was a surprise.

"Albus, what about those rumors? About some sort of moon warrior with an enchanted wolf roaming around the wilds? Intervening in fights with the werewolves and giants?" There was immediate disbelief.

"Come on Mad-eye! This is a stretch even for you! Some sort of rumors about divine warriors- fairytales!" There were similar expressions of disbelief.

"Oh, no doubt, no doubt." The old auror grinned maniacally.

"But remember, there was some fuss about a white wolf running around Diagon Alley not long ago. And everybody who's seen that wolf has said it's no natural beast."

"So what? It probably isn't. Some sort of magical creature- but I've heard nothing about werewolves and giants!" There was a flurry of debate.

"I have." Heads swung around.

"Remus?" Dumbledore laced his fingers together.

"I don't care how strange it sounds. I keep myself separate from the werewolf packs, but on Dumbledore's request I've been keeping my eyes and ears open. A werewolf can't lie to another werewolf, you know. A man, a wolf, and a strange bug-like creature have indeed been spotted wandering the wilds. The only thing I've been able to find out for sure is that none of them are native here, and none of them are normal. By normal, I mean the man isn't human, but also isn't any other species we recognize. And the wolf isn't a werewolf, or any known magical species. Even the bug-person is an unknown. The one thing everyone agrees on is that they're good- they help people out when they can, that sort of thing." The room erupted again. Eventually, Dumbledore called for order.

"Enough. I know you all have a lot of work to do. There's no point in running in circles when we don't have enough information. Keep your eyes open. And just for the record? The man's name is Waka, the ponticle is Issun, and the wolf is Amaratesu." The room stared in astonishment as Dumbledore bid them farewell and left.

"Merlin. He really does know everything."

Harry, Hermione and Ron were safely back in their room before the order members left. Mrs. Weasley dropped by to check on them- Harry was grateful for the cookies she brought, but was still angry for the unofficial watch being kept over them. After they were sure that she was gone, they all sat on the bed and began to whisper about what they'd just heard. Most interesting, was the mention of the strange man and wolf wandering the wilds.

"Ever heard anything like that, Hermione?" The witch bit her lip.

"Not specifically. I'd need more information- and I don't recognize the names."

"Really? Hermione Granger doesn't know? A sure sign of the apocalypse."

The witch blushed and thwacked Ron on the shoulder

"Shut up, Ron. I don't know everything."

"But you're working on it," both boys chorused. She laughed. Harry took another cookie.

"Sounds wild though, doesn't it? A moon warrior and a magical wolf…I wonder what they're doing here?" He shook his head. Hermione frowned.

"Moon warrior? That sounds familiar." Ron grinned.

"Here we go."

"No, it's not like that. I just think I might have read something about a race of people that lived on the moon- but that was a fairytale." Ron was stealing another cookie, but Harry raised an eyebrow.

"A fairytale? Hermione, I hate to break it to you, but the entire wizarding world is like a fairytale." She blinked.

"It is, isn't it?"

"So, are you going to tell us about the fairytale moon warriors?" She needed no other urging, a familiar gleam lighting up her eyes.

"It was a fantastic tale, if somewhat nonsensical," she began, not noticing as Harry rolled his eyes.

"Apparently, a race of immortal people once lived on the moon, and they were a beautiful and very intelligent race. They built great ships to sail the heavens and roamed between the stars. Some stories say they were a very cold race, caring not for others, while others say they were too kind, and were slaughtered by another race, jealous and afraid of their power." Ron waited, but she said nothing more.

"Well? What really happened?"

"No one knows, Ron, that's the point."

"But if they were immortal, they couldn't just die?" The witch shook her head.

"There are many different kinds of immortality," the witch scolded.

"Anyway, it's just a tale. Remember, people have walked on the moon, and found no signs of any kind of life or intelligence." Ron's mouth fell open.

"People have walked on the moon? Dad never said anything about that!" Harry reflected that the wizarding world had a long way to go, in some respects.

"You know, Hermione," Harry offered, "there's more than one moon in the universe. If it isn't a tale, maybe they lived on another moon."

"Maybe, Harry, but I'm sure it's just a story."

"People walked on the _moon_? You sure about that?" The two exchanged glances and then looked at Ron.

"You want this one?"

Waka toyed absently with his necklace as he observed the fascinating forest he and his companions had wandered into. The moonlight glinted off his necklace and he lifted it up to observe it properly. He'd had it for several hundred years, and he remembered Amaratesu trotting up to him, necklace in mouth, before waving her tail and dropping it at his feet. He'd worn it out of respect at first, and then later out of love. He didn't know where she'd gotten it before presenting it to him, but supposed it didn't matter. It was very simple, a sharp white fang being the ornament, strung tightly on a cord of silver-white strands. Looking at it, he couldn't help but think of his old home- and the betrayal and the goddess that made up his present life.

He wasn't sad that he would never see the place of his birth again, although it was very beautiful and the only home he had known for a very, very long time. His was a race that most saw as petty- a flighty people, self-centered. In many ways, they were. They could be killed, as could all things, but unless mortally wounded, they lived years beyond counting. He had exiled himself when he had realized the depth of the betrayal they had committed, and also forced him to commit. For centuries he had lived apart from them, the memories of the slaughtered Celestials a constant source of pain, and the sharp agony of the loss of the white wolf who had fought so bravely beside him when darkness fell. When they had first met, she had greeted him without reserve, and he still remembered his own curiosity over the beautiful goddess with mystery in her eyes, tail waving as she licked his hand. His own sense of honor had kept him in the land of Nippon, watching the endless years pass, waiting for the return of the sun goddess, who slept in stone. And when everything was said and done, when once again their steps fell upon the divine land, he had found himself remaining. He had no desire to go home, but to his surprise, no real desire to leave, either. He was content, he decided, to be Amaratesu's companion. To wander and fight wherever she led, or he led, and to play his flute to remind her of happier times long passed.

And here they were, in this dark, seething forest, a place of equal wonder and terror, seeking out the darkness and sowing light in it's place.

And flowers. Always the flowers. He could feel someone watching him, and looked to the side, straight into burning eyes.

"Ma cherie. Still awake?" She watched him for a moment longer, then bent her head to lick at a gash on her front leg, where a lucky strike from a truly temperamental tree had slipped through her defenses.

"You look better." It was true. Despite the blood marring her coat in several places, she looked- brighter, more alive, than she had before. There were no ghosts for her here. She huffed, resting her head on her paws. There was a faint snore from her head, where Issun obviously had no trouble sleeping.

"You seem to be looking for something." This was true too. For the last few months they had roamed indiscriminately, intervening in inter-species battles and settling old disputes. Places of darkness and murder were visited, and cleansed. It had been at one such site, an old house on a hill and a graveyard, that had caused a change in the goddess. While divine winds flowed over the tainted earth, fires cleansed and finally flowers grew, she had wandered about, sniffing at the earth. It had been her that had led them into this dark forest, and tugged them onward.

He was content to wait. What came, came.

Harry was disappointed, but not surprised, when they were not allowed to visit Diagon Alley. And he'd really wanted to see the much talked about flower invasion, too. Somehow he really doubted that was the work of dark wizards.

But at least today he would get to return to Hogwarts, his only real home, and get out of the Black house. The trio were packed days before, counting down their remaining time by walking extensively throughout the portrait system and amusing themselves by spiking the food with Weasley tricks and not getting blamed. Now, at last, they could get out of the oppressive atmosphere.

The Hogwarts express was as crowded as ever, but people were quieter, more nervous, than Harry ever remembered seeing them. The trio joined up with a somber Ginny, and with Luna and Neville sat together in an apartment with the door locked.

(Harry figured that if he ran into Malfoy right now, he'd kill him.)

"So- any bets on our Defense against the Dark Arts teacher this year?" Harry asked idly, wondering if this year's teacher would try to kill him or not. Ron snorted.

"No way. I'll wait and see. Given your track record, Harry, it's safer that way." Harry sat up straighter in indignation.

"Hey- watch it! What do you mean my track record? It's not my fault that four out of five of our DADA teachers were either evil or wanted me dead!"

"Of course not, Harry," Hermione soothed.

"Yeah, mate, but you've got to admit, most of them have tried to do you in." Harry turned to stare at Ron.

"How is that my fault?" Luckily, the snack cart arrived and distracted the teens before Ron could answer.

The red train continued on it's way, heading for the magical school of Hogwarts.

"There's less first years," Ron noted as he took a moment away from staring longingly at his empty plate. Harry sunk into his seat a little. He felt a little guilty, since, like it or not, major events in the wizarding world seemed to involve him. He was fairly certain, though, that if people would just stop trying to kill him, that would change.

"Welcome all!" Dumbledore beamed, and the hall feel silent.

"A warm welcome especially to our newcomers- I know you'll all enjoy your time at Hogwarts. A reminder that the forbidden forest is out of bounds, especially in these dark times. A curfew will be in place, from six in the evening no one is permitted to leave the castle. Patrols in the halls will increase. Please abide by these rules as they exist for your protection. If you have any questions, please look to your head of houses, or prefects. Now, I would like to welcome your new Defense teacher! The Ministry has kindly allowed us to borrow one of their aurors- who requests you call her Tonks." The hall burst into polite applause, skeptical after the last couple of years. Harry and his friends clapped loudly, relieved to see a friendly face in the position. Then, to the awe of the first years, and Ron's delight, the food began to appear.

Harry woke up abruptly, gasping, one hand clapped to his forehead.

"Damn!" He swore. It was only his first day. This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen until the end of the year. And all he could remember was a dark room, Voldemort's laugh- and then a blazing white light and the sound of a wolf howling.

Why did he get stuck with the weird dreams? Like he could tell Professor Trelawney about them. She'd make it out to be some sort of omen of his death for sure.

And, glancing at the clock, it was five o'clock, on his first day of classes. He couldn't even get some decent sleep in.

With a sigh, Harry headed for the showers. At least he'd get a good breakfast and an early start.

Dobby would be happy to help, at least.

Tonks was a lot of fun. Somehow, while falling over every available piece of furniture or uneven patch of ground, she could still battle any number of magical creatures, and really knew her stuff. The Gryffindor's loved her, and the Slytherin's hated her. All was well at Hogwart's, really.

Then, one day about half-way through the year, everything changed.


	5. Out of the Woods

**Chapter Five: Out of the Woods**

It had already been a trying day, what with a double potions class and all. The sixth year Gryffindor's had staggered to relative freedom from the dreaded dungeons to the crisp air of Hogwarts's grounds, were their Care of Magical Creatures lesson was to take place.

It had been a relatively quiet year so far. No hints of dark plots, no curious incidents…it was almost tame. Besides Harry's indistinct dreams, the most interesting events at Hogwarts were the danger-filled potions' classes, and Quidditch matches.

Yes, they were being lulled into a false sense of security.

Hagrid introduced the combined class to the Mercil's he'd ordered from overseas, excitedly pointing out their four-inch fangs, razor sharp claws, and hypnotic eyes, used to lure travelers within range of their attack.

This was dangerous enough. However, the presence of the half giant was enough to keep the creatures from attacking- in fact, most of them were asleep.

Then Death Eaters burst out of the Forbidden Forest, with Inferni in tow.

It was chaos. While Harry and his friends reacted immediately, the others panicked, getting in the way of each other as they tried to run. The inferni made it worse, since spells didn't seem to hurt them. Harry flung a barrage of spells at them, trying to work out what worked, while dodging as two determined Death Eaters tried to kill him. He'd just worked out that fire spells sent the Inferni up in smoke, when something crashed into him, knocking him to the ground.

There were screams everywhere, the whine of magic unleashed as the students battled, roars as Hagrid charged the attackers like a bowling ball headed for pins, protecting a huddle of students. Yells came from the castle, teachers beginning to appear at the doors.

They were going to be too late.

Harry clawed at the Death Eater's heavy black robes, trying to breathe as the man's weight kept him pinned.

Then something knocked into his attacker, sending him flying, and Harry could breathe.

He grabbed for his fallen wand, glanced at his rescuer- and froze.

Brilliant light. How long had he been dreaming about brilliant light?

It resolved itself into a white wolf, so beautiful it hurt to look at her, a blazing shield on her back, and a row of beads around her neck.

She snarled, and the sound raised the hair on Harry's neck, and then she sprung into battle, and somehow Harry wasn't surprised to see her using the shield and beads- which flared out like a whip- to attack and defend. He got to his feet, and began to drive his classmates forcefully together, and back from the fight, which was very quickly centering around the fleet-footed white wolf, who was moving so fast she was a blur. Fascinated, Harry saw that odd things were happening round her. She merely glanced at a group of Inferni, and a second later a firestorm lit up around them, and they flared up like torches, 'dieing' without sound. A barrage of spells splattered against her shield, spinning in front of her, but a few moments later, instead of shielding, a clump of trees burst out of the ground to redirect the magic.

That wasn't all. A strong wind kicked out of nowhere, sending spells wildly off course, and Death Eaters and Inferni alike seemed to be attacked by invisible blades. The bead-whip she wielded with deadly accuracy moved near as fast as the wolf herself did. So entranced by her movements, Harry stopped driving his fellow students back, and it took him a few moments to work out that she wasn't alone.

Not far away, a man fought the attackers as well, and all Harry could see of him was long, too-bright golden hair and flashing blades.

Mesmerized and appalled by the bloody death being dealt out not far away, Harry continued watching even as Professor McGonagall began to pull him away.

The teachers had arrived.

The attacking force tried to break away, and the exhausted teachers let them. The wolf and the swordsman, however, did not. In an astonishingly short amount of time, they were all dead or at least decidedly 'down'- wounded so they were not going anywhere.

Harry edged out from behind Professor McGonagall's stiff form, craning his head and looking at the grass- grass slick with blood. He swallowed, and glanced around at the still forms on the ground- some still conscious and groaning, and others very, very still. Dumbledore was approaching the blonde man, the wolf was standing calmly amidst the carnage, and a small glowing green something seemed to be robbing the corpses.

Harry blinked, and wondered if he was dreaming. Hermione latched onto his arm, breathing through her nose hard, her nails digging into his skin.

"Oh God Oh God…" He heard her whisper, and following her gaze saw Professor Flitwick bent over the still form of a student. Harry swallowed again, his eyes flickering about as he tried to think of something to fix his attention to, or something he could do to help.

"Professor?" He whispered, tentatively tugging at her sleeve. She turned her face so she could see him.

"Potter?" Her voice sounded hoarse.

"Um, has someone gone for Madame Pomfrey yet?"

"She was notified at the first hint of a disturbance, Potter. No doubt she will be here shortly." A disturbance? Harry thought, distracted by the sheer amount of blood everywhere, the brightness of the color.

"Of course," he murmured, and fell back, and thinking fiercely, began to move again, calling the members of the DA that were present together.

"Waka? How nice to see you again. I only wish the circumstances could have been different. Your arrival was fortuitous, however, and I thank you for it." Dumbledore, still giving off an unconscious sense of power, stood some feet away from the swordsman, who was cleaning the blood off of one of his blades with a scrap torn from a Death Eater's robes.

The swordsman glanced at him, then blinked in surprise.

"Albus Dumbledore? Headmaster of…ahh, we have wandered upon your school, it seems. Intriguing. Does your school have many enemies, or is this sort of thing new?" Dumbledore looked very old for a moment.

"Dark times have come upon us, sword-master Waka. Dark times indeed, for this is a place of learning for children, and for evil to strike so callously…" The old wizard sighed. Waka swiped down his sword once more, then slipped it back into it's sheath.

"Evil strikes regardless of innocence, old man. Surely you knew that." The warrior walked around the wizard, headed for the wolf and ponticle- standing still and robbing the dead respectively.

"A little low, perhaps, Issun?"

"Are you kidding me? What are they going to use this stuff for, anyway?" The professor's were watching the new arrivals with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

"Uh, little glowing person…that's evidence you're pocketing." Tonks, disarrayed but uninjured found the breath to point out.

"Evidence, babe? Whaddya need evidence for anyway? Cute thing like you? Besides, they attacked, you defended…what more do you need?" And so saying, the little glowing thing bounced easily across a few bodies and leapt up onto the wolf's head. Tonks was startled, the young auror having dealt with a number of odd situations, but never having been hit on by a glowing ball of light.

Speaking of light…

The wolf sat serenely by the tree-line, watching them. A streak of red marred the pristine whiteness of her chest. The green thing was bouncing between her ears, giggling over his haul. If people were watching Waka with wands clutched tight, they were watching the wolf with spells already half uttered. Something to do with some primal genetic thing, perhaps. And a reaction to how terrifyingly she had fought.

"Do calm down, now. I know you're all a little tense, but pointing your weapons at my friend Ammy, after she saved your hides, is just a little ungrateful, isn't it?"

"It's just a wolf. It's dangerous. You saw how she took these people apart. She ought to be put down," drawled a familiar voice, as Severus Snape raised his wand. Dumbledore had just enough time to wince before Waka moved.

"Wow, are you lot suicidal, or something? Tell me, do you believe in gods?" Chirped Issun, as Waka blurred and materialized before Snape with a blade at his throat.

"Raise a hand against Ammy again, and I swear by the Celestials I'll take you apart," Waka said, very calmly and very seriously.

"Am I perfectly clear?" A sharp blade at his throat, and with about a hairs-breath of space between him and death, the potion's master nodded carefully.

"Good." The blade slid back into it's sheath, and Waka shot the assembled people a serious look before ambling over to stand by the wolf's side, ruffling her fur. She huffed, then leant into him and licked his hand.

"I'm glad you're alright as well, ma cherie."

"For shame, Severus, this man and the wolf saved the children. Show a little gratitude!" The potion's master muttered something under his breath that had Ammy's ears shoot straight up.

"I apologize, Waka. This attack has us all on edge. Perhaps you and your companion would like to come up to my office while this is taken care of? I'll admit I have some questions."

"We just happened by, Albus Dumbledore. Or perhaps not- Ammy might have sensed something, she's been on edge for a while."

"If you could just follow me?"

"I suppose we can spare a few minutes."

"Excellent, please follow me."

Then the aurors started to show up.

Waka seemed to find Dumbledore's office a source of great amusement. Even more so than the old wizard's sense of fashion. Amataresu glanced indifferently around the room before trotting across the room to sit beside a great perch which held a brilliantly colored firebird. The phoenix stirred from it's slumber and blinked sedately at the white wolf, before flaring it's wings out and giving a distinct bow. The phoenix uttered a series of sweet trills, before folding it's wings and seemingly drifting back off to sleep. Dumbledore filed away the scene for review later.

Waka straightened from where he'd been closely examining an enchanted hat, and looked at the headmaster.

"So, here we are. Interesting how things turn out. So what is it you wanted to know?"

The wizard settled back into his chair, waving for his visitor to do the same. Waka compromised, leaning against the wall, a half-smile playing around his lips.

"First, I wanted to thank you again, Master Waka, for your timely arrival. Your actions today have helped to prevent further loss of student life. I cannot thank you enough. However, I would be interested to know just how you stumbled upon the school of Hogwarts- it's rather off the beaten track." The Tao Master heard him out, idly running his thumb over a blade hilt.

"Oh, no thanks needed. Ammy and I were only too glad to help out, it was lucky we chanced by."

"Oy," an indignant voice piped up.

"What about me, eh? I helped out too!" Heads swiveled towards the wolf, where Issun was abandoning his position to bounce his way over to the pair, leaping onto the desk to present his case better.

"So…what'll it be? Gold? Jewels? Something shiny…" Waka flicked the ponticle off the desk.

"Tact, my friend. We've had this conversation before. Be grateful that you helped prevent the death of innocent children." Chastised, the ponticle's light dimmed a little.

"Well, yeah, but a guy can't live on morality or gratitude…" Ignoring the muttering little artist, Waka turned a wry smile on Albus.

"Our arrival was truly luck, headmaster of Hogwarts. Charming name, Hogwarts. Yes, luck. We were roaming throughout the Forbidden Forest- also charmingly named- when we heard a fight and naturally thought we'd have a look. Fortunately we were able to help. A most interesting land you have here. Such a shame that misguided people turn to evil and cause such havoc and heartbreak." Dumbledore nodded agreeably, once more tugging gently at his beard.

"Yes, very sad. Tell me, Master Waka, what sort of magic were you using during the fight? I am well versed in several styles of magic, and I must admit, I didn't recognize what kind you used." Waka laughed.

"Oh, indeed. Most of my magic, admittedly, is 'neutral'- I can't shape it, it exists within, strong in my weapons and my music. I have several tricks- I heal very fast, compulsion, that sort of thing."

Waka waited, smiling. Dumbledore nodded, but a faint frown lingered between his brows.

"Intriguing. But I distinctly recall seeing fire and wind being used in the fight. How did you do that?" Waka's smile grew positively evil.

"Me? That wasn't me." Dumbledore blinked, startled.

"Not you? But who else…" Slowly, the wizard's head twisted to stare, first at Issun, and then resting on Amataresu. Waka's smirk widened.

"She's rather talented, isn't she?" He teased.

After Albus regained the ability to think, and thus speak, he erupted into a barrage of questions, trying once more to discern Amataresu's exact nature. Waka and Issun refused to answer due to a number of reasons. For one, it was fun watching the renowned wizard flounder- not to mention the answer of 'god' wasn't likely to be believed. Mostly, however, the duo saw no reason for him to know. If he found out on his own, it was a different matter.

"Your wolf companion?" The wizard questioned for possibly the tenth time. Waka twirled his flute again.

"Amataresu," the warrior offered.

"Amazing. Some magical creatures possess fascinating abilities, like camouflage, or partial control of an element. Why, simply look at dragons. Incredible creatures with a resistance to magic, able to breathe fire. But nowhere have I met or even heard of a magical creature capable of manipulating multiple elements. Not to mention conscious use of weaponry." The wizard fell silent for a moment.

"Where on earth did you find her?" The wizard caught himself abruptly.

"Did she come from…your home-world?" Waka raised a brow.

"No. She came from a different one. She decided to accompany me on this little venture."

Albus Dumbledore was no fool. The constant reminders from Waka about the wolf's status, and what he had seen of the fight, were enough to convince him that 'Ammy' was far more than she seemed. While he didn't understand what yet, he knew enough to be cautious.

"So, Waka, Amataresu- and you too, Issun. Where will you go now?" Waka shifted his weight.

"I'm not too sure. We've covered a lot of ground here, you know. I suppose now all that's left is taking care of this Voldemort character." The unlikely trio had the pleasure of seeing Albus Dumbledore gape as he openly displayed his 'loyalty'.

"Well," the wizard managed, "why don't we talk about that?"

The school was abuzz with whispers the next morning, as people talked about the attack the previous day, watching the reporters down by the forest scour the area alongside irritated looking aurors. By a miracle, no students had died in the attack, but three were in what was deemed critical condition in Mungo's. Rumors tripled when people spotted the unlikely trio from the fight talking with the Headmaster. Classes were sparse, with people hanging around the hospital wing.

The week that followed was tense, with people waiting for information about the injured, and the debate about Voldemort more intense than ever. Through all the chaos wandered a white wolf, drifting among the students, abandoning her normal position beside Waka to sooth the confused children. On the third day, she stepped up to Harry's side…and didn't leave. It was an interesting meeting.

Harry tried, again, to clear his mind. He couldn't seem to get the image of the blood-stained grass out of his mind, and he abandoned his friends for the solitude of one of the towers, hugging his invisibility cloak around himself and staring blankly out of the window. He couldn't say how long he sat there, but it must have been a while, for when he turned at a sound, his muscles burned.

She said nothing, but her eyes said everything. He blinked, automatically pulling tighter at his cloak while staring at the white wolf. How could she see him through his father's cloak? She cocked her head to the side with a questioning whine.

"I'm fine," he said automatically, answering the question in her eyes, vaguely wondering why he was talking to a wolf anyway. She shifted forward, planting her head easily into his lap as if he wasn't wearing an invisibility cloak at all. Without thinking, Harry lifted a hand and began to stroke her head.

"You know what? I'm not alright. Not at all. Everyone's expecting me to somehow save the day, as if I'm some sort of action figure come to life. I'm sixteen! What do I know about defeating Voldemort. Hell, let me be blunt- killing him! That fight the other day…I was useless! What am I supposed to do!?" He slumped, exhausted, from too many sleepless nights and the relief of finally voicing his confusion and pain. The wolf lifted her head and bathed his face with a whine. Harry swatted at her, making a sound, that to his male pride sounded appallingly close to a giggle.

"Gah! Okay, thank-you, that's enough!" She subsided, tail thumping against the floor. He pulled himself out of his depression to stare at her closely.

"You're…Ammy, right? Isn't there some sort of pixie or something normally with you?" Her tail thumped again, and her tongue lolled out, as if she was laughing.

"You have the most interesting markings," Harry mused as he traced one on her face.

"I've never heard about anything like you." His fingers hesitated, then flared out over her odd 'necklace' which he had seen her use like a whip.

"Thank-you for what you did." He stroked her fur, absently wiping some of the tears off his face.

"I'm glad I met you."

Since that meeting, it was impossible to see Harry without seeing Ammy beside him, calmly lying at his feet in class, being adored and fed by the entire Gryffindor table at mealtimes. The entire school knew of her actions during the attack, and soon relaxed around her. Waka was absent from the school most of the time, dropping in for meals occasionally, but otherwise spent his days away from the school. He had laughed when he saw Ammy, paw out, being fed from the Gryffindor table. He had given Harry a long look before nodding. Balance was a funny thing, with every evil having a Chosen One, a chance for evil to be destroyed.

A chance.

Waka was quite busy, while Ammy kept an eye on Harry and the school. Along with the talkative Issun, Waka was investigating some of the prominent pure blood families that were death eaters. The Order had trouble getting members close enough to the like of Lucius Malfoy, who was a grade A asshole, but also a brilliant politician.

Waka outdid him in both areas. No-one was more irritating than the blonde at his most arrogant, I-am-the-god's-gift-to-man best. And despite his playful nature, very little slipped past him. Issun, despite his inability to keep his mouth shut, had a rather brilliant mind- and with his small stature could fit almost anywhere. Sure, they may not exactly be friends, but they made a brilliant team. The fast-talking duo began to mix with the 'cream' of wizarding society, in effect casing out the people and homes they needed to. After some weeks of dedicated work, the two had discovered Lucius Malfoy's hidden stash of dark and disturbing artifacts. However, the two weren't about to try and break the dangerous spells defending the hidden room- and gladly reported their findings back to Dumbledore. The problem was that the elite Malfoy's weren't about to allow a home invasion of any sort take place- if they did, Arthur Weasley would have stormed their mansion years ago. Issun and Ammy had the answer, however, and what an amusing order meeting that was…


	6. Downsizing

**Chapter Six: Downsizing **

Speculation had run rampant about the odd new guests among Order members, trying to sift fact from fiction. They were divided about Waka- the females dreamily declaring that he couldn't possibly be evil. Some of the males just as adamantly declared he couldn't be anything else. Amataresu they looked at with some nervousness, she was a wolf after all, but so obviously not a normal one. Her blindingly brilliant color, her markings and her weapons more than proof enough. The fact that they didn't know what she was put them at arm's length, but everyone in the Order united to perceive Issun as a nuisance- it's just some of them found him amusing, like Tonks. And unlike Snape. So conversation at the Black home ground to a halt when Dumbledore walked in followed by the source of their current gossip. People eyed Amataresu warily, having never seen the wolf at an actual Order meeting.

"Albus?" Arthur Weasley wondered, looking the wolf over. The headmaster smiled benignly.

"Arthur, my old friend, Amataresu's presence here will be explained shortly." Eyebrows raised, but he was Dumbledore after all, so people subsided.

"Now, my friends, I have good news. Master Waka and Master Issun here have located Lucius Malfoy's hidden room, full of all the dark artifacts we would need to begin an inquiry. Heirloom artifacts are traceable to blood, and even one such dark object would be enough to force the Ministry to act." The room broke into whispers, most sounding smug. The Malfoy's were not well liked.

"I sense a 'but' coming," Severus drawled from his corner, where he was lurking like a pro.

"Of course, finding is not the same as having. The artifacts are still concealed, and Lucius will have protected them fiercely, with many dark spells."

"They are beyond our reach then," Severus said pensively.

"It's not just Lucius's magic- it's old dark magic strengthened and re-strengthened by each successive Malfoy heir. Almost impossible to break."

"True," the old wizard said easily.

"However, you forget, it is strengthened by and against our style of magic. Master Waka and his companions have a different style of magic, magic that, combined with our own, should be enough to break any seals we come across." Speculation broke out across the room, the Twins putting their heads together and whispering, trying to decide which of their latest products would be useful. Members began to toss ideas back and forth about what should be done, and who should go. Arthur Weasley quickly brought up another point.

"But Dumbledore, how on earth are we going to get in? The manor is so well protected, standard spells like camouflage and invisibility won't work. Not even invisibility cloaks would be strong enough." Conversation ground to a halt as everyone waited for the answer.

"And therein lies our problem, yes. To get a large enough group past the initial wards would indeed be very, very hard. However, that is where my friend's Waka and Amataresu come in," Albus Dumbledore said easily.

Eyes turned to the trio near the door, with Issun barely visible from where he waited, oddly silent, in Ammy's fur. Waka had been inspecting one of his blades, and looked up at the silence. He raised a brow.

"Yes?" Severus Snape wasn't exactly a nice guy, for many reasons. Regardless, years as a spy are going to make anybody paranoid and cynical.

"You're joking, Albus," the potion's master spat.

"This newcomer and a wolf are going to get us inside? How? By howling at the moon?" Ammy yawned, showing off her teeth nicely.

"Interesting idea, Severus Snape, but sadly incorrect," Waka said, seemingly unconcerned by the insult.

"No, I'm afraid our idea begs for something a bit…smaller." Blink. Issun snickered.

"Oh, you'll like this." Severus stared at them, his lip slowly curling.

"And just what," he said with extreme sarcasm, "are the three of you going to do to get us past the outer wards?" Nobody answered, but nobody needed to, for at that moment, a glowing golden hammer appeared, floating in the air. Issun began to laugh, choking the sound in Ammy's fur.

"What the…" Severus had no more time to say anything, for the glowing hammer flew above him and drew back, and then soundly bonked him over the head, covering him with golden sparkles, and the gaping potion's master suddenly glowed and vanished.

Shocked silence prevailed for a moment, then Issun's voice rang out.

"Well, it's never done _that_ before." The room erupted into sound as people leaped to their feet.

"He just vanished! What did you do to him?"

"…knew you couldn't be trusted…"

"Enough!" Thundered Dumbledore, and people obediently fell silent. Then the people in the room could hear an outraged squeaking sound coming from where Severus had stood before. Tonks and Remus leaned forward, blinking, squinting at the floor.

"Oh. My. God." Remus fell back onto his butt and began to laugh, pointing at the floor and making choking sounds. Tonks just stared at the floor, mouth open.

"What are you two laughing at?" Moody said testily, moving forward, eye spinning crazily. He blinked, and then he too fell silent.

"Oh."

"Well, Albus, I suppose that's one way to do it," the old auror said easily.

"What," demanded Molly.

"What is going on? Where did Severus go?" It was Waka that answered.

"Oh, it's really quite simple. The wards would indeed keep you out as you are. So we simply plan on downsizing you. For those of you not laughing yourselves sick," he said over the sounds of Remus choking, "my friend Ammy here possess an interesting magical hammer, which upon contact with your potion's master, merely cut him down to size." He paused.

"In simple terms, we shrunk him." Incredulous eyes fixed on the floor, where a very tiny, very indignant Severus Snape stood in all his miniature glory, ranting at the top of his very small lungs. Fred and George broke into hysterical laughter.

It's Snape's fault, really. The artifact possessed a mind of it's own, and stayed with the goddess of it's own free will. If he hadn't insulted said goddess, he wouldn't have an incredible headache as well as being tiny. However, entry covered, the Order began to put together a plan of action, and the talks continued well into the night. Few noticed, but neither Waka, or even Issun, said very much at all.

Amataresu slipped easily through the portrait's magic, silently padding her way across the Gryffindor common room before pacing upstairs. Like a glowing shadow, the wolf floated across the room and ended up by a particular bed. Harry rolled over in his sleep, murmuring, and buried his face in snow-white fur.

Harry knew something was up. People in Hogwarts gained, over time, a sense of coming trouble. Harry and his friends had developed a nose for trouble that topped any one else's, though. Harry just knew he that something was up- and once again he was being left out. Anger flared, but Sirius's death was a constant ache, and Harry paced restlessly before the fire, trying to understand, trying to put the pieces together. It couldn't be Voldemort, he thought, for his scar ached no more than usual. Harry ran his hand through his hair, while three pairs of eyes watched him from the couches. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances helplessly, while Ammy slipped off her seat with a low whine, and pressed herself against Harry's side in a way similar to the way she stood by Waka. Harry looked into her eyes and calmed, absently winding his fingers through her fur.

"I can't believe Dumbledore can't even tell us what's going on," Harry finally said, but not with the anger his friends had been expecting. Unexpectedly, Harry was fighting tears, so full of pain and regret he couldn't think for a long moment. Harry knew some of the blame for Sirius's death lay at his feet, but circumstance and Dumbledore had also played their parts.

"Didn't he hear me at all, that day in his office," he asked huskily, unaware of his watching friends, only seeing fire tones that were somehow concerned.

"Didn't he hear himself? Does he honestly think this doesn't concern me? Us? How is it that every year I somehow end up in the middle of one disaster or another?" Harry sat on his heels, mind beginning to clear. He bit his lip, then bolted upstairs, startling Ammy into a small yip, as he retrieved the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," the youth whispered. He scanned the Map and found nothing suspicious. Finally, Harry stuffed the Map into his pocket. Now he had a way of keeping a track of the people's movements in the castle.

Amataresu watched him with inscrutable eyes. Nonetheless, two days later, the wolf padded away from Harry's bed as he slept, gleaming in the bars of moonlight as she left the castle and then stopped at the side of a man with golden hair, looking up at the sky for a very long moment before turning away.

Severus Snape shifted uneasily, staying out of the moonlight with the ease of long practice. He watched Lupin with narrowed eyes, not approving of the werewolf's presence on their mission, and frankly not happy to be attempting a break-in of Malfoy's mansions. This made perfect sense, considering the two were Death Eaters- but while Snape was a spy, Malfoy was a dedicated servant of the Dark Lord. Therefore, if Lucius found Severus wandering around his home with Dumbledore of all people, well, you can imagine. The spy was also not looking forward to being miniaturized again, after last time.

There was also the coming presence of the wolf that made Severus edgy. That beast was unnatural, sure enough, but what confounded the potion's master was the fact that he could not meet her eyes. He had tried. But every time he had tried, he had found her watching him serenely, glowing so brightly that he had to look away.

He may not have been able to admit it to himself consciously, but Severus knew light when he saw it, just as he knew the darkness that surrounded him so often. Deep inside, the man didn't feel worthy of being in her presence. But he'd be four days dead before he'd ever admit it. He just wished she'd stop watching him.

Tonks stood by Remus's side, eyes determined. The young auror and defense teacher had only just persuaded Dumbledore her company would be beneficial, and stayed uncharacteristically silent as the small group waited. Also present was Albus Dumbledore, for once not wearing an eye-gouging outfit, as well as Alastor Moody. There was only one more person present, Bill Weasley, curse-breaker for Gringott's. The small force waited only for Waka, Issun, and Ammy before they would portkey close to the Malfoy's grounds and begin their, er, downsizing. The wards would not recognize them as human threats when they were the size of bugs, after all.

There was a flicker of light. Ammy materialized out of the darkness, glowing softly, and right at her heels was Waka. Issun was a dull green glow in Ammy's fur. Dumbledore let out a slight sigh.

"Now that we are all here," he began, "the rest of the mission must be taken as swiftly as is safely possible. Once we disturb the wards, we will not be able to do so again. Tonight is all we have, my friends." He pulled a gleaming phoenix feather from his pocket and held it out.

"If you please," he instructed. There was a round of blinking as Ammy lifted a paw easily and laid it on top of their interlocked hands. Before anyone could say anything, they were whisked away in a whirl of magic.

Places, everyone.

Harry continued to sleep, very deeply, in Gryffindor tower. He didn't move at all, besides the flicker of his eyelids, as he began to dream.

Packed in tightly, no-one fell over when the landed within sight of Malfoy Mansion. Dumbledore wasted no time, as he pulled an odd, compass like object from his pocket. Holding the object before him like a sword, the old wizard walked forward easily, eyes fixed forward. Earlier he had produced the device, proclaiming it as a Ward Sensor, which he had assured them, was a highly classified object that did pretty much what it said it would. It worked by bouncing tiny threads of magic forward in an arc, which were neutral in effect. The only thing the threads did, in fact, was move- but the very presence of the wards would throw them back, informing the user of the device of their existence. It was delightfully simple, since any active magic at all would wake the defenses, while the thread magic did nothing at all.

The group followed the wizard, watching him work with bated breaths. Some five meters away from the highly stylized front gates of Malfoy Manor, Dumbledore halted.

"Here," he said very softly, deactivating the shuddering object in his hand and sliding it away. The wizard turned and looked into calm burning eyes.

"Amataresu? If you would." The wolf seemed to laugh silently, and then the mallet appeared, and went to work. Eyes squeezed shut in alarm, but not even Snape was hit this time, as the shimmering gold light wrapped around them.

Tonks managed at last to open her eyes, barely aware she was clinging to Remus's arm. She blushed crimson, but was stopped before she could say anything as she got a look around her. She wasn't the only one in a state of shock. Everything was green.

Everything was green because she was surrounded by grass, and the grass was _huge_. There was a choked sound to her left, as Bill Weasley swallowed a gasp.

Severus turned on his heel, taking in the scenery, and came face to face with Amataresu, who, while shrinking dramatically, had remained big enough that he found himself staring straight into her shifting eyes. Issun was the one that surprised them the most, as they were now his size. Many of them saw him properly for the first time. Dumbledore spared the ponticle a fascinated glance, but was not deterred.

"Astounding," he remarked softly over their newly miniaturized state. He pulled another object from his pocket, this one actually a compass, but it was Ammy and Issun that took the lead, with Waka just behind.

"Leave this to us," Issun reassured them.

"We've done this a hundred times." He tilted his head to the side, ponytail swishing.

"Actually, only a couple, but that's a couple more times that you guys have." He gave a cheeky grin.

"When we get out of this, remind me to tell you of the time Ammy and me went inside the Emperor's body." And with a laugh, the ponticle nudged Ammy lightly with one foot.

"Onward! For treasure and glory!" And ignoring the mutters from Snape about mad little people, Issun drew his sword and led the way, with Ammy huffing her laughter.

It was definitely an experience, to travel when you were so small. For one, everything took a lot longer, but the group was so fascinated they could hardly care. Grass is something you trample underfoot until you have to traverse it like a forest. Bugs were an actual threat, and more than once, Waka and Issun had to clear a path, while only Dumbledore seemed to notice that the rocks seemed to shatter themselves after a glance from the white wolf. Despite all this, the wards never detected their presence, humming with serene, dark power all around. Occasionally the wizards would brush at their skin, as if trying to get something off, and Ammy took an occasional snap at the air. The steps proved an interesting challenge, with Ammy bounding up them like they were, well, steps, but normal sized instead of the tiny mountains they seemed when you're very small. The wizards could not use their magic with the wards. The wards were not bothered by the 'bugs' that traveled back and forth across it's borders, but magic of any kind would have alerted them instantly. Wizarding magic, anyway. Ammy continued to blast anything that needed blasting, and to swing a sword needs no magic at all. It took some time, but the little group managed to get inside. The worst was yet to come, however, but traversing the outer wards was an achievement.

Ever try to open a heavy oak door when you're the size of an ant? Yeah, not happening. There were lots of fascinating nooks and crannies, but Ammy and Issun scouted out windows and mouse holes for the group as they tried to find the drawing room with the hidden room beneath it. The wizards clutched wands they didn't dare use, while Waka guarded their rear, and Ammy and Issun led the way. A web of impenetrable cobwebs suddenly burst into fire, and Ammy pushed her way through the smoking remains without concern. Severus, however, swore softly, grabbing Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Enough," he hissed to the old wizard.

"What's going on? How is that blasted beast doing it? First those rocks, now that fire…Don't try to deny it! Just what kind of animal is that wolf, anyway?" Dumbledore freed himself from the potion master's grip with a simple shrug.

"Her name is Amataresu," the old wizard scolded softly, still looking around.

"As for what she is…I have no idea." But he was beginning to wonder.

It was a triumphant moment when Ammy and Issun led the way across the rafters, and sliding down the curtains. They were finally in the right room, and hadn't set off a single ward. The wizards followed at a much slower rate, with Remus guiding Tonks with his enhanced reflexes. Waka drifted down with impossible lightness to stand by Ammy's side as Severus tried to slip down without loosing his grip. He failed, and tumbled towards the floor. Before anyone could think to use magic to save him- and thus damn the mission- a white blur materialized by his falling body and caught his robes in sharp teeth, flinging him onto it's back behind a startled ponticle, before twisting back to earth. Shaky breaths were released as Snape tumbled off the wolf's back onto the floorboards, deeply shaken. Amataresu gave a soft whine, sniffed his face, then trotted into the center of the room. Snape stared after her.

"Are you alright, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, as Bill Weasley touched down, having made a far less dramatic entrance. Severus nodded vaguely, still trying to understand why she had saved his life.

Ammy spared none of them a spare glance, as she sniffed suspiciously at the floorboards, sneezing. She growled, fur rising, and Waka wandered up by her side, stroking her head.

"Quite right," he agreed.

"Here's the entrance," he told the wizards, "but you can't just open it. The magic's thickest here." Ammy sneezed again in agreement. Bill Weasley and Remus walked up by their side, studying the floor. Bill squinted, taking a few steps back as he tried to take in the weaves of the wards concealing the hidden room.

"Whoa," he said at last.

"Impressive. Blood based, for sure." Dumbledore walked over, seemingly un-winded despite the long night-time stroll. He too studied the floor. Ammy's head swung back and forward among the wizards as they began to argue softly about what should be done first.

"The problem," Bill said for the fifth time, "is that we need to get past the first ward without setting off the others. It's the one tied into blood. I can fool the others, but the dark magic that's wrapped up into blood wards, I'm not sure about." Sick of the arguing, Ammy flicked her ears and yawned. She sat on her haunches, nearly throwing Issun, and scratched at her ears. She stood up, ignoring the wizards, and took a few steps forward. Feeling useless, Tonks drifted up to her side.

"I'm feeling a little tired myself," the witch agreed. Amataresu spared her a glance, then focused on the floor. A sudden, soft wind whipped out of nowhere, spinning the dust away. Issun sprang off her back. Startled, the arguing wizards fell silent and looked around. Ammy ignored them, staring at the ground, head twisting from side to side as she began to pace over one specific spot. Her glow brightened, and the flames of her shield flared hotter, and her eyes never looked away. Fire spread from the shield, wrapping it's way around her, flaring as hot and bright as a fire can, but through it all, her fur still glowed that pure white. Still ignoring the now gaping wizards, the white wolf ignited, fires flaring around her like a tightly contained twister. Dark mist began to bleed unpleasantly from the floorboards around the wolf, and she growled. The fires increased, and wherever the mist escaped, it was devoured by hungry flames. Finally, the mist died away, and the very floor began to melt, and the group backed away with an oath, leaving the wolf alone, still staring down. The floor bubbled, and then melted away like water thrown on fire, and the wolf plunged, unconcerned, out of sight. Issun leaped after her, yelling,

"That's it! Jump before you think!" Waka tossed the wizards an amused look.

"Ma cherie has opened the way for you," he supplied.

"Do hurry along. We haven't got all night." And he leaped after Issun. Tonks managed at last to close her mouth, but she trusted the odd wolf, and with a shrug, followed. Remus gave a startled growl and leapt as well. Bill Weasley adopted a wry look.

"I'd give a lot of gold to know who that wolf is," he said a little wistfully.

"Did you see the way she obliterated that blood-based ward? It was if she purified it right out of existence." Dumbledore arched an eyebrow, twinkling mysteriously.

"Why it's quite simple, my boy," he said cheerfully, as Severus and Bill leaned forward in interest.

"She's Amataresu, of course," and the wizard jumped, leaving the two remaining wizards groaning.

They landed literally on top of the next ward, with Ammy curled up in an unconcerned ball, to all appearances sleeping as the wizards finally, cautiously used their magic to disable them with painstaking slowness. It was nearly two hours later that Bill rocked back onto his heels, releasing a heavy breath.

"I've tweaked them as much as I can. Let's all cast a dispel on three," he said, raising his wand. Everyone complied, and the resulting wave of magic slammed into the weakened wards with brutal strength, snapping them like cobwebs. They tumbled towards the floor, the wizards casting cushioning charms, while Ammy caught Issun and landed like a cat. Waka, once again, drifted down serenely.

"How do you _do_ that?" Snapped Severus to the warrior, as he regained his feet. Waka merely grinned.

The only light was from Ammy, and Dumbledore cast a quick _lumos_.

"Quickly," the wizard advised.

"We've been here quite long enough, and we still have to get out." Wincing, the group split up.

"Er, Dumbledore," Tonks squeaked nervously.

"Can we be big again? Just for a little? This could take forever, otherwise." Issun snickered at her choice of words, but Ammy seemed to agree, for the mallet appeared and did it's thing, only backwards. It took a few moments for everyone to adjust once more, blinking and disorientated as they were at first. The room was a treasure trove of dark artifacts, and Ammy had to briefly 'eat' the ponticle before he got into trouble.

"But Ammy! There's so many, and they're so shiny," the ponticle complained, wiping off 'wolf drool'. Waka gave the tiny being a gentle flick.

"Foolish," he admonished. "They are dangerous, my little bouncing friend. Steal from his vault, not here." Luckily, Bill didn't hear him say that. Not that he cared what happened to the Malfoy's money, but because as an employee of Gringott's he had a responsibility to the bank.

Half an hour later, the room was cleared out, almost without incident. Only one problem occurred, as Tonks tried to shrink a bloodied dagger down to put in her magically size altering trunk. She bent to pick it up, and Ammy snarled and launched herself at her, knocking her flying. Everyone gaped at the normally placid wolf, but Ammy ignored them, circling the blade like it was a rabid animal, teeth bared. As if sensing the wolf, the blade spat dark tendrils of magic at her, glowing a sick, dark crimson. Ammy flared as well, her rosary lashing out and sending the blade flying into a wall, where it impacted with an angry snarl as if it were alive. While everyone continued to stare, and Tonks got gingerly to her feet, the blade proved this by suddenly yanking itself from the wall and hurtling back towards Ammy. Waka intercepted it, sending it flying once more, but the blade again caught itself, and slingshot itself this time for Remus. Ammy leapt for the blade, but Remus dodged lightly out of the way, casting a _protego_ as he did so. The blade reversed impossibly in mid air, and spun for Dumbledore, who brought his wand swirling down, but before his spell took shape, the blade sunk hilt deep into what appeared to be a _tree_ of all things, that had sprouted randomly from the floor. The tree lasted only for a few breaths, but it was enough as Ammy landed lightly before it, and as the blade began to fall, she lashed it almost a dozen times with her rosary before it hit the ground. The wizards hissed spells, trying to hit the cursed blade, but it was incredibly fast, and they had to break off constantly to defend themselves. Waka and Ammy took the offensive, lashing the cursed blade with their own weapons, while Ammy used her brush to try to 'hurt' the thing. A strong wind knocked the blade off course, and a power slash seemed to at last slow it down. Not taking any chances, the group continued to blast the blade. Finally, Ammy approached it warily, growling softly. The blade lay as still and innocent as a blade can, looking as if it had never taken flight. Ammy pinned it with a snowy paw, and examined it closely. She snorted suddenly, then picked it up in her mouth to gasps, and trotted over to Dumbledore, dropping the blade at his feet. Dumbledore picked it up carefully, nodding his thanks. He examined it, his mouth twisted into an expression of distaste. Alastor stumped over to the blade, eye whirling suspiciously.

"The Malfoy seal," he explained, holding the subdued blade up carefully.

"This cursed blade is one of the clan's first weapons- see, it is an assassin's dagger. Thin, very sharp, made for blows to the kidney, or other such vulnerable spots. Answers only to the official heir of the Malfoy family. You saw how it reacted to strangers." And shaking his head, the wizard put the dagger into his purse.

"Are we done?" They were more than done, and eager to get out before anything else attacked them. Dumbledore nodded to Amataresu, who stretched lightly as the mallet took form again. Snape sighed.

"Well," Tonks said brightly as they shrunk once more.

"At least after tonight we won't be the only ones_ downsized_. I reckon the Malfoy's are in for a right nasty week, so they are." They groaned at her pun, but Alastor laughed darkly.

"So they are, lass. So they are."

Back at Hogwarts, Harry sat bolt upright as dawn began to color the sky, eyes wide.

Deciding sleep could wait, the group split up at Hogwarts, with Remus, Bill and Alastor returning to Grimmauld place, while Tonks, Dumbledore, Waka and Ammy went down to the great hall, where sleepy students were appearing for breakfast. After the items were carefully inspected, Arthur Weasley and Alastor Moody were going to have a field day at the Ministry.

So were the press.

Waka took a piece of toast with a faint sigh, relaxing back into his chair. The students in the hall shot him dubious looks, whispering amongst themselves. Waka raised an amused brow, far more interested in food than in gossip. Ammy yawned at his side, seeming to agree. Issun had abandoned her fur for the tabletop, where he preceded to steal a little of this and a little of that. He had discovered an obsession for strawberry jam, and was trying to work out a way to steal a substantial amount. Waka watched his efforts lazily. A shout at the Gryffindor table caught his attention, as well as the couple of teacher's in the hall. A few older students dressed in Slytherin colors- uh oh- were talking to a group of younger students dressed in Gryffindor red. Those involved didn't seem to notice the interest they had garnered amongst the others in the hall, their little drama playing out.

Harry sat bolt upright at something a blonde boy his own age hissed, emerald eyes flaring dark. The 'discussion' amongst the older students, however, seemed much more bitter. As Professor McGonagall abandoned her meal and swept towards the group like a starving cat spotting prey, the 'discussion' upgraded into a brawl. Of course, this being a magic school and all, a fight involves magic. Which tends to be bad, since emotional, hormonal teenagers with magic at their command often do very stupid things. The first few spells were jinxes, annoying but basically harmless. A particular nasty spell, however, that made the victim feel like their skin was on fire, upgraded the 'brawl' into a fully fledged fight. As McGonagall drew in her breath for a yell, wand upraised, someone lose their head entirely.

"_Crucio_!" Heads turned, people lunged to their feet. Harry twisted to the side, trying to avoid the spell, but was saved when a flash of light shot between the weak, fluttering crimson light and him.

"Enough!" The sheer power of Dumbledore's voice was incredible, nobody could move. Utter silence fell, all eyes turned towards the Headmaster.

"Everybody _out_," he commanded. Students got to their feet, clutching their books, hardly daring to breathe as they left. The children from the fight didn't move at all, frozen in place by the icy fury present in the old wizard's gaze. The wizard descended from the dais at a slow walk, taking the time to pin each student with a long look that sent several squirming.

"Now," the wizard said, no warmth in his voice at all, "you will tell me exactly what happened here." Nobody wanted to talk, but after a moment Harry took in a deep breath, and Dumbledore's eyes snapped to him.

"It…we were just having breakfast. The students from Slytherin came over- something seemed to have set them off." Harry glanced quickly at Malfoy, who was, and had been, acting very oddly. He was paler than normal, and besides the one nasty comment, had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole exchange. It was the older students who had provoked them, suddenly savage towards a group they had until now been ignoring.

"They were just so angry- they started in with the usual comments, but it was obviously just an excuse. They just started throwing spells- I just don't get why they took it out on us." Harry wasn't as obtuse as he looked. The Slytherins looked positively murderous, such raw hatred in their eyes that Harry sucked in another breath, confused. Dumbledore was looking at the others.

"Is this the truth?" It was impossible to lie under that gaze. There was a round of mumbled agreement. Hermione's nails dug viciously into his arm. Dumbledore leaned forward and pierced a seventh year Slytherin with a look that could have shattered rocks.

"As you are no doubt aware, Mr. Douglas, the cruciatus curse is an Unforgivable, the use of which on another person will earn an automatic life sentence to Azkaban prison." The youth he gazed at was white faced- but mostly in fury. Very slowly, Dumbledore continued.

"If not for Amataresu's actions, your curse would have hit a student." Alair Douglas spoke suddenly.

"The spell did not hit anyone, Dumbledore." His voice was just short of a sneer.

"_Professor_ Dumbledore, child." The air was very thick.

"While it is true that your spell, through actions not your own, was stopped short of it's target, it was still cast with enough strength and hatred to be visible." He paused.

"For now you have avoided Azkaban. However, your actions here cannot be ignored. You will surrender your wand for further examination, and accompany me now up to my office to await the Ministry officials who will be handling your case. I- Hogwarts- is very disappointed in you." Dumbledore held out his hand. The air thickened as Alair stared at him, wand fisted. There was a very long pause. Then, slowly, Alair placed his wand in Dumbledore's hand. Harry breathed out, chest aching.

"As for the rest of you," Dumbledore continued, "Professor McGonagall here will deal with you. Fifty points from Slytherin, and twenty five from Gryffindor. Times are dark enough without students provoking fights with other students." Favoring them all with a disapproving stare, the wizard then turned and led the seething Slytherin Alair Douglas away. Harry watched them go, frowning. It was only after Professor McGonagall lit into them all that he realized Malfoy had not said a word.

He remembered his dream the night before, and wondered if it was true.

The drama was not yet over.


	7. Transformations

**Chapter Seven: Transformations**

The Slytherin's were like cornered rats, enraged, striking out at anything that came near them. Over twenty students had to visit the hospital wing after falling victim to several nasty spells from Slytherin students. The other students were baffled by the sudden rise of cruelty from the snake house, pairing up and eyeing the volatile house members cautiously. Harry watched the proceedings carefully, noting that not once did Malfoy participate, which he found very odd. Draco loved to be the 'Slytherin prince', and in past years had lapped up any and all attention, always willing to get a Gryffindor in trouble. Now, however, while others in his House all but rampaged, Draco was a subdued blonde shadow. Harry was shocked as he realized who Draco currently reminded him of- Dobby. It was like he was afraid. Harry remembered his dream again, and wondered if it might be true. The implication of the Malfoy house in dark happenings was hardly new, but proof- actual _proof_, would be harder to bribe away. Impossible, in fact, if the investigation was headed by the right people. And Arthur Weasley was as likely to let such a thing go as Voldemort was to suddenly dedicate himself to world peace and the worship of all things fluffy.

So, Harry concluded, perhaps his dream was a true one, and Albus Dumbledore and co had in fact invaded Malfoy manor and raided his hidden room. Perhaps Draco and the other Slytherin's were acting so oddly because very soon lots of nasty, in-depth investigations would be taking place amongst the Purebloods. The war needed scapegoats, after all, and if the Malfoy's could fall, any of the great family's could. Harry took a certain gold coin from his pocket, making a few alterations. He drew Hermione and Ron close, and had a quick, whispered discussion. Then the three split up, each with a mission. The next couple of days were going to be tense, and Harry didn't want some innocent first years running into trouble.

The Ministry officials arrived just past lunch, two run-down individuals who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else. Harry and his friends happened to be in the great hall when they arrived, stumping through the front doors wearing absent expressions. The two swept away towards Dumbledore's office without saying anything- or even looking around. Ron stared after them, a fork full of pie half-way to his mouth. He shook his head.

"Dad says all the divisions are maxed out. Lots of You-Know-Who sightings. Everyone's overworked." Harry took a piece of pie himself.

"Glad that seventh year will be gone soon, though. He'd be suspended, at least."

Not twenty minutes later, as Ron finally finished the entire pie, the two appeared again, with a fuming youth between them. Harry shot them a curious glance as he picked up his books, Hermione fuming to Ron about being greedy. Things would have been just fine, but at that moment Alair caught sight of Harry at the table, and his face transformed, twisting with hatred. He lunged, throwing the man on his right almost completely off his feet, grabbing his wand as he fell. His face was inhuman, and Harry barely had time to blink as Alair raised the wand with a snarl.

"_Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling as he hit, trying to get his own wand from his pocket as Alair threw the spell again, and this time there was nowhere for Harry to go.

Once again, someone came to his rescue in the form of blazing white light, this time accompanied by a feral snarl. The wolf had been with Harry as usual, unnoticed where she was curled up under the table. The spell impacted against the wolf's chest, the emerald light blasting the wolf backwards, where she slammed against the ground at Harry's feet and was still. The second official and Ron and Hermione hit Alair with spells simultaneously. People were yelling, and Harry was frozen on his knees, wand half-drawn. Amataresu was motionless before him, and the boy could not take his eyes off of her still body.

Then Professor McGonagall was in front of him, calling his name. He couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears.

"Ammy?" Did he say that, or was it Waka? For the blonde was now on his knees in front of him, pulling the wolf into his lap, calling her name. Harry blinked. He was dreaming, wasn't he? Teachers were surrounding the stunned form of Alair. Tonks waved her wand and ropes wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles. Someone was trying to get him to his feet.

_Flicker._

"Ammy?" The raw sound of Waka's voice pulled at Harry, who couldn't seem to get enough air.

_Sirius? Cedric?_

His eyes burned, he slowly shook his head, denying the scene. Waka, hair tumbling wildly around him, shifting as if in a sudden wind, and the wolf, still glowing, eyes closed, were all he could see.

"Harry? Harry, there's nothing you can do. She just…" Hermione's voice shook.

_There's nothing you can do, Harry. He's gone._

Then the glowing form in Waka's arms flared to incandescence, impossible to look at, a burning, blazing white that burned his eyes, but was impossible to turn away from. The noise and the chaos of the hall fell away, as the light burned still brighter- then faded slowly away.

The form within Waka's arms stirred, gleaming white, and gold-red eyes drifted slowly open.

Someone gasped. Behind him, Harry heard Ron whisper what sounded like a prayer. The white wolf in Waka's arms was gone- and in her place was a girl.

White fur had become white hair, so long it spilled over the floor in gleaming purity. Limbs had lengthened, become smooth and straight. The tail remained, a fluffy appendage marked with grey ink swirls. Wolfish ears peeked out from amid her hair, and the rosary still circled her throat. A simple dress, pure white with stylized flames was draped around her. Her eyelids fluttered, open then shut, her lashes dark crescents against her cheeks. Red-purple markings wrapped around her wrists, her ankles, and shimmered on her forehead and around her eyes. She stirred, in the utter silence, eyes opening again as she stared around. One arm drifted shakily into the air, and the girl stared at her hand, eyes wide. A low whimper sounded from her throat, her hand falling back against her chest.

"Amataresu?" Waka whispered, eyes huge. The girl said nothing, her eyes slid shut, and she turned her head towards him. Waka stood slowly, in the utter silence, the girl limp in his arms. Her hair brushed the floor. From the floor, Harry never looked away as Waka walked out of the room, his footsteps loud in the awed silence. The door clicked shut.

_Chaos._

"Did you see that," Hermione whispered, eyes wide.

"Did you? She survived the Killing Curse head on. And she changed. Like an animagus, but not." She shook her head mechanically.

"She survived the _Killing Curse_." Ron was mumbling something feverishly, but Harry was still staring at the door through which Waka had left with the girl. People were talking over the top of each other, teacher's trying to restore order but getting distracted themselves. Dumbledore was a force to be reckoned with, setting the unconscious form of Alair under guard in the corner while aurors were summoned, talking to teachers and prefects. Slowly, people were led away. Students were being dispersed, the doors were watched as pale teachers marked off the area that the killing curse had impacted in. Professor McGonagall slowly ushered a nearly catatonic Harry towards the Healing wing, Hermione and Ron refusing to leave him.

"You will be needed for the trial," their head of House said shakily as they climbed the stairs. Harry nodded dreamily. Sirius wouldn't have a trial of course, nor Cedric, but Alair would pay for killing Ammy. Killing? Trying to kill? For the Ammy that had become his friend, his shadow, was now the pale girl that Waka had carried away, and she had been alive.

Alive. Alive and moving, eyes confused, a pale, beautiful girl he had never seen before, but with eyes the same as the white wolf that had followed in his footsteps. Harry shook his head, walking blindly at his professor's heels.

"Professor?" Hermione's voice was plaintive.

"What happened? Alair just went crazy, trying to kill Harry. Ammy- she got hit protecting him. But…she didn't die. But it was the Killing curse, wasn't it?" Her dark eyes were fixed on the professor's back, oddly hopeful. McGonagall tensed, but didn't turn around.

"Yes, Miss. Granger. I'm afraid beyond that we don't know what happened."

"But she survived," Ron said suddenly.

"Whatever she is- she survived too. Like Harry." There was silence the rest of the way to the Hospital wing.

The hospital was as scary and white as ever. Professor McGonagall ushered them inside, hands moving jerkily. Madame Pomfrey was standing beside a bed near the window, staring down at the glowing girl lying still before her. Waka, hair still shifting as if riding some invisible wind, stood helplessly by the bed, hand fluttering between a sword hilt and just above the girl's hair, as if he was afraid to touch her. Issun was an awed little glowing ball on the pillow, shocked into silence. Harry drifted over towards the little group, but was diverted neatly into a bed of his very own, with Ron and Hermione sitting down beside him. They all stared towards the bed containing the still girl.

"Is she okay?" Hermione whispered. Madame Pomfrey gently reached out, turning the girl's head to the side, moving silvery hair to the side as she inspected a furry ear.

"Seems to be just unconscious," she murmured, absorbed in her search.

"Besides, of course, the fact that she's supposed to be a wolf." She looked over at Waka with a frown.

"Has this ever happened before? Is she some sort of animagus?" Waka was shaking his head.

"No, never. I've known ma cherie here for well over three hundred years"- there was a choking sound from Hermione- "but she's never changed shape." Madame Pomfrey was staring at him.

"Three hundred years?! What species is she?" Waka glanced over at the bed containing the three teens. He hesitated. The doors suddenly swung open, and Dumbledore swept in, walking fast. Waka gave the headmaster an inscrutable look.

"She's immortal. She can't _truly_ die- if she did, trust me, you'd know. I have no idea why she changed." Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over the sleeping girl, sending out violet sparks.

"Immortal? Surely you just mean long-lived? Vampires can live for centuries, susceptible to sunlight or a stake through the heart. Goblins, likewise, live for a very long time, but little is known about their life-spans or weaknesses. They all die." The medi-witch lowered her wand slowly. Waka shot another look towards the trio on the bed. Harry finally spoke.

"You can tell us. We won't tell anyone. I owe her my life- we all do. Maybe whatever you know can help. Madame Pomfrey's really good." Waka gave him a measuring look, eyes hard. Harry didn't back down. The swordsman stirred, and looked down at the sleeping girl. He sighed, deeply, and sunk down into the chair by her bed.

"I will hold you to your word," and here he uttered something, a whisper of musical notes from some strange language.

"I mean immortal as in _immortal_. She can't really die. She slept in stone for a hundred years, though, and woke around two years ago. That was after she was badly injured in a fight against a terrible evil. That death magic that hit her weakened her, but it couldn't have done this. The only thing I can think of…" He trailed off. Madame Pomfrey waved a hand impatiently.

"Necessity. For whatever reason, only in this form can she do what needs to be done. That's a higher kind of magic." The healer frowned. Dumbledore's head sunk towards his chest in thought.

"Master Waka, you believe Amataresu survived because she is immortal?" The swordsman growled softly.

"I _know_ she survived because she is immortal."

"How?" the headmaster wanted to know.

"Is it something that Tom can harness, like the philosopher's stone? Can he, if he has her, use her to somehow-" The swordsman surged to his feet, hair lifting and crackling, hand white-knuckled around a blade hilt.

"He won't touch her," he hissed, fury so thick around him it tainted the air. He took a deep breath, visibly calming.

"No. Your dark lord cannot harness her energy. He would destroy himself trying." Dumbledore nodded, tugging at his beard thoughtfully.

"Who is she, Master Waka?" He said at last.

"You've known her for centuries, she's immortal or at least long-lived, flowers grow where she walks, and she controls the elements. In our world there is nothing like her. Not even in legend. She could be likened to a god." There was a snort from the bed, where Issun had been listening. Waka fell back into his chair, laughing darkly.

"Goddess, actually. Of what, I will not say. With a little thought, I am sure you will work it out, anyway." Jaws dropped. Hermione's brain appeared to have jammed, her mouth was slack, her face blank. Harry didn't really want to be on the receiving end when she snapped out of her disbelief. Luckily, there was a diversion in the form of a waking wolf-turned-girl.

She blinked up at the ceiling, her head lolling to the side, her eyes panicked. She nearly squashed Issun, who squeaked and leapt for safety, but the girl calmed when she saw Waka next to her. She blinked at him, pulling her arms and legs in close, and tried to get up. She couldn't seem to get her limbs to work properly- she hoisted her body up by her forearms, but when she tried to straighten she fell again with a yip. She gave a confused sounding whimper, her head bent, hair spilling down over the sheets. Waka hovered next to her, a hand hovering just over her shoulder. Her head bent back, hair sliding over her shoulders, and she whined, just like a wolf, and licked at his hand. Her ears drooped, and she shook with misery. Harry was about ready to drive a spoon through his heart in sympathy, and wasn't surprised when the swordsman sat beside her, pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair, crooning something under his breath. The girl leant into him, making a low miserable sound. Her tail twitched.

Madame Pomfrey stirred in concern, wanting to help, but the clearly terrified and confused girl buried herself in her companion's arms. Dumbledore beckoned her over.

"She seems fine. Why don't you leave her for the moment until she has her bearings. You can look her over later. Meanwhile, Harry and his friends need a check-up too." Diverted, Madame Pomfrey became a blur of efficiency. Unnoticed, Dumbledore sat down in the corner, looking everything over.

After a while, the girl drew back slightly, wavering a little. Her tail lashed. She looked at Waka, head rocking to the side.

_What happened?_

Waka gave a husky laugh.

"You worried me. You haven't been that still since you died- although your week long nap aboard the ark was close." Her eyes softened.

"It's not your fault. But I don't think you've ever been human before. That might take a while to get used to," he cautioned. Her ears drooped again.

_This form is strange._

"It's not so bad, ma cherie. You might even like it." She frowned, and he marveled as her displeasure twisted her human face.

_I'm cold. This flat fur you call clothing is useless._

He choked. She looked down at herself, wavering as she slowly sat up. Her glow brightened for a moment, then faded again. She smiled.

_Better._

She fixed him with a pointed look, and without thinking he ran a hand through her hair. She made a low, thrumming sound like a purr, leaning into his hand. He blushed faintly, and tried to take his hand back. She pierced him with another look, and his mouth twitched, and he gently tugged on her ears. She yawned slightly, flashing her sharp canines.

_The children are well?_

"Of course. Next time you feel like flinging yourself in front of death magic, however, please use your shield. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

_No time. It did not hurt much. The tainted one is gone?_

"I presume so. If not, I'll go kill him in a little while." She huffed her amusement, and stilled in surprise when soft, human laughter mixed up with the sound. She lifted a hand, the motion smoother this time, and flared her fingers clumsily. She stared at it. Waka gently took her hand in his.

"It's alright. You'll get used to it. I'm sure you'll be back to yourself in no time, ma cherie. Until then, think of it as a new experience." The look she gave him was oddly vulnerable, and Waka enfolded her in his arms again without thinking.

In an oddly plaintive voice, Issun squeaked from somewhere down below, "So it is you, right Ammy?"

The wolf goddess in human form frowned, trying to understand her new form. She ignored her audience as she lifted her new limbs, comparing them to her old. She would have to walk on two legs now, not four, but at least she still had her tail to balance her. Her ears had remained the same as well, and her senses were as acute as ever. Cautiously wriggling out of Waka's comforting embrace, she swung her long pale legs over the edge of the bed, and gasped as her bare feet touched the cold floor. A hand hovered at the small of her back as concerned blue eyes watched her, but Amataresu didn't hesitate as she shifted her weight and tried to stand. She would have fallen, but clutched the bed as her new legs tried to support her weight. She was much higher up than she was used to, and she was dizzy. Slowly, her legs firmed as she grew a little more comfortable with her new centre of balance, and she took a slow step forward. She wavered, but a swish of her tail helped her regain her balance, and her fingers loosened their hold on Waka's shirt. She took another step.

The others watched in awe as the glowing goddess took her first few steps, face fixed in a small frown of concentration. She was shaky, but each step was firmer than the last, and she began to need her tail less as she crossed the room to Harry's bed. She smiled at him, mouth curving upwards in delight to see him well.

_I am glad you are well._

She managed to refrain from licking him, just, and instead nuzzled her cheek against his for a moment, then mimicking Waka's motions, wrapped her new arms around him in a hug. Harry reddened as the lovely girl embraced him, but was so glad she was alive, in whatever form, that he couldn't help but hug her back.

"Um, thanks. I'm glad you're well too." Hermione blinked in confusion- she hadn't heard Amataresu speak. Ammy smiled again, a new expression with a human face. Her ears flickered a little, and she sat back a little awkwardly, not at all used to this new body. She inspected her hands, paying little attention to the others in the room. She was used to being a wolf, after all, and wolves are not really noticed by humans, except as possible threats. A girl, however, is noticed, and Ammy was unaware that every move she made was being watched. She lifted a hand, flexing her wrist, and touched the unfamiliar fall of her hair. She made an odd sound in her throat, tilting her head to the side. Her face felt odd beneath her fingers, too flat without her muzzle, velvety smooth without the softness of her fur. Her eyelashes intrigued her for a moment, as she blinked them, feeling them brush her hand. She lifted a foot again, and touched the soft soles of her feet instead of the normal leathery pads of her paws. One hand brushed lightly over her chest, and over a hip. Inspection then done, she sighed softly, lifting her legs up and curling up next to Harry just like she had as a wolf, a little more awkwardly, and with masses of silvery hair spilling over the bed and trailing onto the floor. Harry automatically lifted a hand to pat her, then blushed crimson and let it fall back into his lap.

"Well," Dumbledore said as he watched Amataresu begin to drift off into sleep.

"Happily no one was hurt in this incident." Harry sat up straighter indignantly. Amataresu had been hit by the _Killing curse_ after all, not a bloody tickling charm, and forced somehow into a human form. Not hurt? Waka seemed likewise annoyed, as he stood just behind the wolf goddess. He was slowly stroking a hand over her head just as he had when she was a wolf, seemingly unaware of it. Issun, however, was the one to speak.

"With all due respect, wizard," the ponticle said, crossing his arms, "Amataresu is hardly unhurt. She's supposed to be a wolf, after all."

"I apologize, Master Issun," the wizard soothed.

"I am merely glad that no-one died. That is what the Killing Curse generally does." Ron shot a sideways look at his best friend.

"So. A goddess, huh?" He offered feebly.

"That's new."


	8. A place to call home

**Chapter Eight: A place to call home**

The next few days showed a marked increase of 'injuries; in the student population, and heavy traffic past the healing wing as people tried to catch glimpses of the mysterious wolf-girl that had survived the Killing Curse. It was all in vain, of course, Dumbledore was far too wily, and in fact the girl was now housed within the Room of Requirement while she familiarized herself with her new form. She didn't seem overly impressed with it. She missed her speed, her fluidity of movement- although she was faster and more graceful then even a veela could have been.

Flowers still trailed her faltering steps.

As time passed however, and she remained in her new body, she began to accept it's limitations, while also delighting in the new world that had opened up to her. She wanted to try everything- she wanted to cook with the house-elves, play Quidditch with the students, learn how to swing a glaive in her hands instead of her jaws. Waka and Issun soon grew used to the sound of her silvery laughter as she tried new things, with varying degrees of success. Her laughter was something they treasured, for it was the closest thing to true speech that she had gotten. She may have been transformed, but she was still as wild, as fierce, and as beautiful as she had been before.

She still did not speak. Waka broached the subject, as he explained their situation, but although the goddess would laugh, she made no attempt to speak as a human would, instead favoring the swordsman with a puzzled smile. Smiling too, was a new thing, but it was for her the curving of her mouth- she was a wolf, and baring her teeth implied a very real threat. But days became weeks, and no longer did the wolf-turned-girl falter when she ran, or drop things because she was unused to her fingers. And then one day, as Waka and Dumbledore were trying to come up with a solution, an explanation for the Wizarding world to accept regarding the Killing Curse survivor, Amataresu simply opened the door to her hiding place and wandered out, padding lightly, barefoot down the stone corridors. She did not try to hide in the shadows- which was just as well, for her glowing form made such an exercise pointless. She inspected her surroundings with new curiosity, her white and red clothes and her unusual coloring making her a vibrant oddity in the castle of black and grey. A first year saw her pass as he ran late to class, and froze mid-sprint, tripping over his own feet and colliding rather painfully with a suit of arms. She blinked in surprise, and tilting her head to the side, waited for him to regain his feet and dash off before shaking her head in confusion and continuing on. She passed a window, and stopped to stare, beaming in delight, for outside a group of black robed youngsters on brooms were awkwardly veering away after a much better flyer, like little ducklings…The girl sat in the alcove for a long moment, drinking in the sight, before she wandered away again- much to the dismay of several students minutes later who had heard from an excited and somewhat concussed youth of her presence there.

Draco was in the library, bent over his books, hand wrapped so tightly around his quill it was a wonder it didn't break. He had been staring at the same paragraph for the last half an hour. Surprisingly, neither Crabbe nor Goyle were in attendance. The young Slytherin was lost in miserable thoughts. The Malfoy heir had a lot of faults- but at his core he wasn't a killer. He could be petty, he could be jealous, and he could be vicious. But these were traits nurtured by his 'loving' father, and through very painful growth, the young wizard was beginning to see the world without his father's rose-tinted eyes.

It was turning out to be very interesting. And painful. We mentioned painful, didn't we?

Draco re-read the same line again, and then let his head slump down onto the book, unable to escape the thoughts circling around in his head.

His family was finished. Much of what had been stolen from their house could have been explained, or bribed, away. Some items, however, could not, and it was those items that were dragging the Malfoy family down. His father was two steps away from being arrested, and no amount of fast talking would keep him out of prison. His mother might be able to weather the coming storm, and then again she might not. As for Draco himself…Well, that was a little more complicated. He was not yet of age, which granted him some protection, but he was the heir to the Malfoy title, and with a certain reputation. For once, Draco regretted his treatment of others in Hogwarts- regretted his title of Slytherin Prince in a world that was really beginning to hate that House. Draco was only beginning to edge around guilt for his actions towards others- foremost came his battle for survival, as the Malfoy heir. He had spent all his life being told, and _knowing_, that he was better than everybody else. He was a pureblood! He was a Malfoy!

Draco was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that neither of those long-held 'truths' were going to be of much use. Unbidden, Draco remembered that Harry Potter was a half-blood, and had shown he was no slouch in the magic department. Draco shoved the thought away. He wasn't ready yet to throw away a lifetime of views on blood purity, not ready to throw away the words of his mother and father, who he loved despite everything.

It wasn't quite a sound, but something made Draco lift his head. He blinked blearily, drawing himself up, ready to blast whoever had wandered in on him in his moment of weakness.

He froze.

She was leaning against a table, her head tilted to the side as she watched him. She was closer than he to the window, and a stray breeze lifted her luminous hair and sent it flying lazily for a moment. Her eyes were wide and concerned, and he had never seen eyes quite like them.

He had never seen anything quite like her, period. He knew who she had to be, of course. She was the strange girl that had appeared in that wolf's place, the one who had saved Potter's life and been hit by a Killing Curse.

First Potter then a wolf, Draco mused. Maybe they weren't making the Killing Curse like they used to. The thought, oddly, held none of his usual spite.

Her glow lit up the dark stacks, and Draco suddenly realized he had been sitting there staring at her like a moron.

"Can I help you?" Curse his father's training!

"That is, I'm rather busy here," he said, gesturing towards his books vaguely, "and I'm sure you have somewhere else to be." Around Potter, he thought resentfully. She said nothing, and continued to look at him.

That gaze was really beginning to unnerve him. Flame shifted in her eyes, and the hair on the back of his neck lifted. He tried to look away, but found he couldn't.

"What do you want! Aren't you going to say something?" Nothing.

"I'm not surprised," he said rudely, trying to drive her away, "you're still just a dumb animal." The last 'dumb' animal he had met had sliced him open with it's talons. Perhaps insulting her was a bad idea, but he wanted her gone. Now. The weight of her sad, compassionate eyes was like lead at his throat.

"Stop it!" He demanded a little incoherently. She made a low sound, leaning forward a little.

"What do you know! My family's going to be destroyed! I could end up in prison- at the very least I'm going to be broke! Ministry fines in these cases are _extremely_ harsh. I'm going to loose everything, including my parents, and you come along and just stare at me-" Draco ranted on, snarling about Harry bloody Potter, and he couldn't pinpoint which was the exact moment that he started crying. No, he couldn't pinpoint that moment, nor the one where he found himself weeping into her hair, clinging onto her like she was a lifeline.

No, he couldn't pinpoint any of those moments, but when at last she stood up, and oddly nuzzled against his cheek, before drifting away out the doors, Draco remembered. He watched her glowing form walk away, feeling drained, but also relieved.

Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

Harry was on a mission. Granted, he was acting without full information, but Harry was on a mission none the less.

At least, that's what he told himself as he skipped Potion's and started towards Dumbledore's office, ready to demand information. People ran around trying to kill or capture him, they had for _years_, and frankly, Harry was sick of it. Not just sick if it as he had been last year, full of rage and pain, railing against fate. No, Harry was sick of it all right down to his soul, and while rage and pain were still echoing in his heart, absolute determination had taken hold of him. The last time he had felt this way had been in that graveyard, when he had accepted his coming death, and chosen despite it to fight until his last breath. It was a curiously freeing feeling, for there was nothing he wouldn't do now. Harry wanted answers- needed them.

And he was going to get them.

Missing potions was hardly going to hurt anyway, he was doomed in that subject, thanks to Snape. Harry was sick of his dreams as well- although they told him far more than the headmaster or the Daily Prophet. It was those dream flashes into the untold secrets of the war that were driving Harry resolutely up the stairs, and further on towards Professor Dumbledore. He fiddled with his wand, muttering angrily under his breathe, slowing as he approached the stone gargoyle that protected the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Glancing around carefully, Harry made sure to check everywhere as he pulled the Marauder's Map from his pocket.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered. The parchment reacted immediately, ink appearing suddenly, lines and curves writing themselves as the Map 'woke'. Harry stared carefully at the representation of the gargoyle, then lifted his wand.

"Smarties?" Harry whispered again, voice incredulous. Crazy candy guy. The gargoyle seemed to glare at him as it sprung aside, and Harry quickly cleared the Map. He walked up the stairs slowly- he was still driven, still certain, but his steps slowed nonetheless the closer he came to the door that led to Dumbledore's Inner sanctum. Which turned out to be a good idea, because even approaching the door, Harry could hear raised voices issuing from within. Harry raised his brows, rocking uncertainly on his heels.

"-can't possibly allow this Albus! You know as well as I-" It was Professor McGonagall's voice, raised in alarm, the accent thickened with distress. Harry frowned, uneasy with the emotions throbbing in her voice.

"Professor McGonagall," a man hissed, and Harry jumped in alarm, recognizing it, a man who had no place in Hogwarts.

"_Headmaster_ Dumbledore runs only this school, not the Ministry of Magic! Eyewitness accounts provide proof of another survivor of the Killing Curse. This is a matter for the Ministry, surely you can see that! By studying this animal perhaps a defense against the Unforgivable can be found. Imagine it! Think of what this could mean in this war!" Minister Scrimgeour's voice was shaking, and had an odd lilt to it. Harry shuddered just hearing it, fury clawing at his throat as the Minister passed his friend off as an 'animal.'

"Amaterasu has as much rights as the next-"

"It is just an animal! It's only importance now is in preventing the Killing Curse!" It was Scrimgeour's chance to be cut off now, and Harry could just imagine Dumbledore coming to his feet, pressing his palms against his desk as he leant forward.

"Enough! What goes on in this school _is_ my concern, Minister. If you wish to approach Amaterasu that is of course, your right. Just as she has the right to deny you. But let me make myself perfectly clear, Amaterasu is not an 'animal'. She is herself, and she deserves to be treated with decency. Surely your 'eyewitness accounts' told you Amaterasu is currently human?"

Their was a brief, icy silence.

"Fine. I will speak to this- to her now. But this is a Ministry matter, Dumbledore! You cannot protect it- her- forever!" Their was the scraping of chairs, and eyes huge Harry began to back up, head flicking from side to side as he searched for cover.

Nothing.

Out of time, Harry flung himself against the wall, and draped himself in the folds of his Invisibility Cloak. Not breathing, he stared as the door flung itself open, and an aggravated, red-cheeked Minister Scrimgeour burst through like an aggravated lion, four aurors on his heels. They passed so closely by Harry that his cloak fluttered. As the gargoyle sprung away for them with a muttered curse, Harry let his breath out in a gasp, tense muscles liquefying as he slumped against the wall in disbelief. Then his brain kick-started and he came to his feet, nearly tripping over his own cloak. He had to find Ammy first, before the Minister did. He knew she had been out of sight since the 'incident' and had theorized that she was either at Grimmauld Place or hidden somewhere in Hogwarts. Scanning the Map had showed nothing, and Harry had concluded she must have been at the Black place.

Until now. Scrimgeour had been certain she was here, and if she was, there was only one place she could be that would be hidden from the Map.

The Room of Requirement.

Harry was gasping for air as he skidded to a stop before the plain door concealing the Room of Requirement, pacing hurriedly back and forth in front of it. The door would not yield, however, proving to Harry that it was indeed in use. Cursing, the youth flung himself against the wood, beating his fists against the door, and mentally begging anyone that was listening to let him in. So caught up in his growing anguish, Harry barely noticed when suddenly the door fell inward and Harry fell flat on his face, with a bemused pair of blue eyes looking down at him.

"Well. Harry James Potter. I was expecting you. Admittedly, not for a few days, but that's visions for you…" Waka trailed off as Harry awkwardly got to his feet, face flushed with embarrassment as well as his exertions.

"Ammy!" Harry suddenly blurted, his arms gaining a life of there own as they took off, his eyes flicking around for the silvery goddess.

"Minister! Aurors! Come to take her away-" Harry continued his incoherent rant, as Waka narrowed his eyes in speculation, having caught his friend's name as well as 'come to take her away'.

"Master Harry! Do calm yourself. Breathing might help." The emerald eyed teen obeyed, his eyes still pleading as they flickered around the room.

"Please, um, Mister. It's about Ammy- er, Amaterasu. I overheard Minister Scrimgeour in Dumbledore's office! He said they had to study her, see how she survived the Killing Curse, kept calling her 'it' and saying she was just an animal and had no rights-" Harry, still searching the room for any signs of his missing friend, didn't notice as Waka's eyes darkened several shades, turning from crystal blue to a midnight hue, his hair beginning to stir very lightly around him as if someone had opened a window.

"-and I came right away, we've got to hide her, I don't think the Minister will take no for an answer, and where is she anyway? I can't see her anywhere." Harry finally finished his recounting of the earlier events, blinking in surprise as a minuscule glowing green person _bounced_ onto his shoulder.

"Uh, hi?" Then Harry noticed Waka's face and blanched as he looked into his eyes, shaken, for in that brief moment his eyes were unguarded, full of something wonderful and terrifying, before shutters swept over them and Waka was leveling an impassive stare at him.

"Where?" Harry could only shake his head.


	9. Predator and Prey part one

**Chapter Nine: Predator and Prey (part one)**

Ammy was in fact standing once more before a window, eyes half closed in contentment as she gloried in the lovely breeze whispering through. She was beginning to speculate on ways she could get onto the grounds and closer to the fascinating sport below, when raised voices nearby caught her attention. Twisting to stare, the goddess tilted her head, her furry ears twitching obligingly.

"Where is that dratted animal? I've got a meeting at three, we must wrap this up quickly." The speaker was male, highly annoyed, but also so covered in fear-scent that Ammy sneezed silently, shaking her heavy hair as she shook her head to clear it. Finely tuned instincts whispered to the goddess that something was wrong, but this castle had become her territory in this world, and she would not back down from a challenge. And if the voice belonged to the person she thought it did, it would be useless to avoid him anyway. Eyes narrowed slightly in speculation, the goddess stepped away from the window- a subconscious reaction that gave her more room to maneuver in.

A small group rounded the corner, and Amaterasu's eyes confirmed what her nose and ears had already told her- five people, four male and one female. The one in the lead was tall and thin with shaggy fur, and was the origin of the over-whelming fear scent. The others of his little pack were flared out around him in obvious protective positions. They came to a sudden, surprised halt as they caught sight of Amaterasu standing in the hallway. Sticks- wands- came up, wary eyes watching her.

She tilted her head innocently as the lion-like leader opened and closed his mouth several times.

"Just look at that. Dumbledore's let the school go to the dogs, letting that thing just wander around…" His voice was strong and disdaining, his lip curled in disgust, but the wolf-girl all but tasted his fear. Her nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

The shaggy one was making quite a show of looking around, noticing that the hallway was clear of other people. Amaterasu noted him in passing- the actions of those around him spoke of far more confidence and danger, and she slid her legs apart a little, deepening her stance. The sticks-_wands_- were unwavering as they pointed at her, and remembering the brutal impact of the green curse, the goddess prepared herself for the first move, her shield humming a little faster on her back, flames speeding up.

"Alright, now," the shaggy one said in an officious voice, seemingly reading a mental checklist.

"Let it be known that this animal is being taken into custody for further study for the good of all wizard-kind. It is the Ministry's hope that the creature will enable us to devise a protection against the currently unstoppable Avada Kedavra curse, also known as the Killing Curse. We-" The wizard cut off as Amaterasu took a tiny step forward, ignoring the wands pointed at her heart, making a soft questioning sound in her throat.

He didn't understand her, few did, but he faltered at her obvious confusion, before his voice suddenly regained it's strength as he looked away and continued.

"We have high hopes for the success of this project and predict that sometime in the future the Wizarding council will have a favorable report of our findings."

Scrimgeour managed the last at tongue-tangling speed with his eyes fixed firmly on the window, having found himself incapable of meeting her eyes. Clearing his throat, the Minister continued.

"Auror Hasely, you may take the subject into your custody now." The group fanned out past the Minister, but paused as a low, rumbling growl shivered through the air. They froze, staring at the young, sweet-looking girl who had made the sound. Her eyes had darkened like molten flames, her top lip had pulled back to expose sharp white fangs, and all in all she gave the very firm impression that she had no intention of going anywhere. Suddenly the group was reminded of her odd origins, noticing that furry animalistic ears peeked from her hair, that her fingers were curled like claws, and that those were very sharp-looking teeth that she was flashing at them. And hey, hadn't she survived the Killing Curse, after all?

But they were professionals, and they hesitated only briefly before moving to do their job. A quick signal, and four voices called the stunning curse. Four brilliant streaks of light from four different angles shot forward- and slammed hard against the floor, marring the stone, for quite suddenly the girl was gone.

Well, not gone, but she had moved really, really fast, leaping into the air and over the curses with unnatural grace, landing lightly in a crouch and catching a cutting curse on a rapidly rotating shield trailing flames that had leapt in front of her. The aurors reacted quickly, surrounding their target, spells lashing forward- and once more hitting nothing but air, or that strange fiery shield.

Evidently sick of protecting herself against repeated attacks, the girl shot forward and to the left, and quite suddenly their was a string of beads within one pale hand, and before anyone could react, it lashed at them with brutal speed, knocking two auror's wands away and opening a bleeding gash on another's cheek.

What happened next can only be attributed to surprise, and a predator's instinct. The wolf-girl made a soft whining sound in her throat, ears flattening, eyes pleading as she took a step back, trying to convey to her audience that she was no threat and that they should desist.

Sadly, this is the Ministry we're dealing with here, and the auror's had clear instructions. As the two disarmed aurors inched for their fallen weapons, the remaining two struck simultaneously, and this time, distracted as she was by her hopeful intervention, a spell actually hit- a cutting curse slammed home between the wolf-girl's shoulder blades, but instead of dropping her it merely flung her forward a little. Snarling in surprise, the goddess dropped instinctively to all fours, ears flat and tail lifted as she promptly forgot weeks of lessons and launched herself for the nearest target's throat.

Irony dictated that said target would be one Scrimgeour. Luckily, the peace-loving goddess managed to shift her leap slightly, her fangs sinking into the man's shoulder, hands hooked like claws into his robes. Her weight drove the man squealing onto his back, and sensing panicked spells heading for her the goddess disengaged and leapt to the side, shield countering the magic. She snarled in rage, hair lifting and shifting like infuriated snakes, her tail bristling, eyes flashing, and her shield flashed away and was replaced by a great glaive- sparkling and spitting out sparks of lightning like an infuriated cat.

At that exact moment Harry, Waka and Issun came skidding around the corner.

Harry had panicked briefly, before remembering the Marauder's Map, and whipping it from his pocket, the young wizard had soon discovered the goddess's location- all the while with a panicking Issun shrieking in his ear.

"Never should have taken my eyes of her- she's a magnet for trouble, let me tell you- look away for five flaming minutes, I mean, it was such good jam!"

Strawberry jam aside, the tiny ponticle was frantic, but Harry felt the whole process would have been much easier without such commentary.

Right next to his ear. So loudly. Regardless, a triumphant Harry led the way through Hogwart's sprawling passageways, speeding the process up by way of a few secret tunnels. He turned to tell Waka they were close, but his voice died in his throat as he stared at the Map in dismay- several dots had appeared next to Ammy's- and one Harry recognized as Minister Scrimgeour. Harry squeaked, and then abandoned all subtlety, yanking his companions out of the secret passageway via a convenient tapestry and broke into a dead sprint.

Harry had expected a lot of things, but he would easily have admitted that what he saw was _not_ what he expected. He had forgotten, see, that loving goddess and all, his friend was a wolf, a fierce predator with fierce protective instincts. So when he saw her, ears flat, hair writhing, crouched on all fours with blood on her lips and down her chin, he staggered back in surprise.

Waka hadn't forgotten. Far better than his young friend, he knew exactly what his friend was, and he knew that despite how lovely and life-giving the sun was, it also killed, and at it's heart was _fire_- all consuming. He also knew how protective his friend was, how fiercely she protected those she cared about, and this castle had become a sanctuary for her. She would no more allow herself to be removed from it than she would allow an innocent to die. Instead of reacting with horror or surprise, Waka's lips curved in a slight smile. A bared blade was already in his hand, and without hesitation Waka leapt into the fray, knocking one of the auror's out with a quick blow at the back of his neck before flipping over his collapsing body to land by Amaterasu's side, grinning rather…wolfishly…himself. Harry recovered with the same remarkable swiftness that had enabled him to survive dangerous situations, circling around the group to stand by Amaterasu as well. The glowing green ball- Issun- who had been clinging to his hair during the wild run, now catapulted himself from his position like a trapeze swinger, leaping impossibly far before landing before his friends, an odd patch of bright green luminescence. In the utter silence that had descended, the steely ring of his tiny blade sounded ridiculously loud.

"…"

Harry snapped out of his shock as he stared at the chalk-faced minister, clutching at his bloody shoulder.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" The youth raged, emerald eyes blazing, unaware of the amused glance Waka shot at him.

"And what did you do to my friend? I know she wouldn't attack you without damn good reason…" The youth trailed off for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization.

"You were trying to take her away without her permission, weren't you?" He accused, hands clenching into fists.

"You have no right! I don't care who you think you are-" The aurors blinked bemusedly as the Boy-Who-Lived ranted on, waving his arms around occasionally for emphasis as he vented.

"- the whole Voldemort thing- and look, you still flinch at his name- not to mention the smear campaign, I mean, I don't even need to go on! Are you drugged? Under the Imperius? Or are you just plain stupid? A bloody first year would have known better-"

Amaterasu's growls faded away into nothing, her hair suddenly once more obeying the laws of gravity, and blinking, she accepted Waka's hand as he pulled her to her feet. She coughed lightly as she willed her glaive out of existence- it sparked, as if it were pouting- and her normal fiery shield appeared once more on her back. A little embarrassed, the goddess absently swiped at the blood on her chin as she listened to Harry berate the English Minister of Magic and his aurors as if they were nothing more than silly pups.

Well, to be honest…but that was hardly the point.

Watching the Minister and his remaining, conscious aurors, the goddess reached out lightly and rested her free hand over Harry's shoulder. Humming softly, she shifted a little closer to him, and the boy calmed, leaning back into her touch, rant cutting off, although his eyes still took in the 'attackers' darkly. Waka shook with silent laughter behind him, while Issun, who had been chiming in with agreement every other word, poked the unconscious auror with his sword, before shrugging and snitching the man's fascinating necklace. It was shaped like an hour-glass, and was full of sparkly stuff. Ignored by the others, the ponticle bounced over to the window to better inspect his prize. He shook it lightly, then turned it upside down, before 'oohing' in surprise as the sand-stuff continued falling- sideways.

Mouth hanging open in shock, Scrimgeour stood gaping at the group for a full ten seconds, before his white face began darkening, rapidly turning a rather unhealthy looking purple. Waka blinked as the man swelled up as much as he could with his injury.

"_You_…What…How dare you! This is a Ministry operation, you little brat, and you have interfered for the last time!" Waka tensed, sliding his hand free from Amaterasu's, changing the defensive angle of his blade slightly.

"Since when is kidnapping my friends a Ministry matter?" Harry began indignantly, but Scrimgeour, hand still clapped to his shoulder, stormed over top of him.

"I would think you, of all people Potter, would appreciate the seriousness of what we are doing!"

"What, kidnapping my friends?" Was the indignant reply.

"Finding a defense against the Killing Curse! Why think, your parents might have lived if-"

"_Don't_ _you talk about my parents_." Scrimgeour actually stuttered briefly, caught off guard by the boy's dark tone.

"You ridiculous child! Enough! Hand over the animal, get your lackey's out of the way, and I may consider letting this slide."  
Harry shook with indignation, but before he could say anything, there was a flash of gold, a stirring of the breeze behind him, and then Waka materialized before him, blade resting against the Minister's throat. Ammy made an odd, startled little huff. Issun merely snickered from the window, where he was watching avidly, still holding the hourglass that was bigger than he was. The aurors shifted, eyes widening as they recognized the danger their charge was in. They aimed their wands cautiously at the swordsman, but a soft, rumbling growl that with every passing second grew louder halted their movements. The growl faded away again, and Amaterasu shifted forward, standing next to Harry protectively, eyes hard.

"Now now, let's not be hasty," the swordsman purred, loving the apprehension he could feel from the three aurors near him. He fixed his eyes on the wide brown ones before him, his mouth curving into a small smile that had nothing to do with amusement.

"I could have sworn you just threatened my friends, Minster. But surely I heard incorrectly…" Waka trailed off to see if the man who run with the hint, but he seemed incapable of speaking.

"Come now. You had so much to say before. Not a word of wisdom now?" Waka's voice had a mocking lilt to it, and with his blade a breath away from sweating flesh, watched as the man swallowed.

"I am the…I am the Minister of Magic, you can't-" Waka burst into delighted laughter.

"Politicians. No matter where you go, they remain the same. Do you honestly think a fancy title will keep me from slitting your throat?" And before the man could reply, Waka suddenly twisted, lashing out at the closest auror, bringing the hilt of his sword crashing into his temple before spinning to tackle the last two guards, standing foolishly together. Blurring, the warrior appeared behind them, slamming their heads together, before appearing once more before his captive as if he'd never moved.

"See? Now, being a somewhat merciful being, I have left your little- what was the word? Ah yes, lackeys- alive. As for you…"

Waka quite enjoyed watching the terror in the man's eyes, after all, he had threatened Ammy and Harry, but they were all quite exposed here, and he had to wrap things up before someone came to investigate.

"I want you to listen very, very carefully, little one, because I'm only going to say this once. Now, I'm sure you're aware of the girl just behind me, yes?" Waka didn't give Scrimgeour time to answer, but continued serenely on.

"You are going to leave her alone. She can't help you with want you want, to defy death is not something that mortal's can decide. Nor do you have the right to try to take her away against her will. Luckily for you, she is not hurt; otherwise I'm afraid I would have had to kill you. But none of that matters now, does it?" Waka said brightly.

"Because you're all going to go back to wherever it is you came from and do whatever it is that you do. And if I ever see you around her again…well, that doesn't really require a prophecy, does it?" And still smiling, Waka reached out and shoved the little man away, spinning his blade as he did so, so that a tiny scratch marred his cheek.

"You will remember, won't you?" The swordsman purred as the Minister backed up a half dozen steps, hands tightening on his own wand, but glancing down at his unconscious guards, glared impotently before turning and fleeing around the corner. Leaving his guards in various positions of unconsciousness.

For a moment, Harry wasn't sure who frightened him more, Amaterasu or Waka. Then the swordsman began to chuckle, and the Gryffindor relaxed.

"Is he always so, so…stupid?" Harry coughed.

"It's a matter of opinion. But hell yes."

"Hnn. Well, let's hope he's not foolish enough to try again. Although, maybe if I killed him, you'd get a better leader." The calm way the blonde said it raised the hair on the back of Harry's neck.

"Um, maybe. But honestly, knowing my luck, we'd bet stuck with someone worse. Maybe Umbridge, or a servant of Voldemort." Waka shrugged elegantly, before turning around and stepping back towards Amaterasu, eyes worried.

"You are all right, aren't you? You didn't get some horrible disease from biting that little rodent?"

He was rewarded with the rare sound of her laughter, soft as it was.

Waka gently brushed some hair back, gently tugged on a furry ear, and frowned as he looked her over, hissing as he spotted the odd mark over her back.

"What by the Celestials…" He brushed at the dark stain on her back, breathing out as he realized only her clothing had suffered. Ammy rolled her eyes expressively, turning back around in his grip and, in a decidedly dog-like manner, shoved her head back into his chest, huffing, before drifting into content humming as the warrior relented and began to stroke her ears. Harry shifted, biting his lip, and fought the urge to laugh as the girl that had just _bitten_ Minister Scrimgeour closed her eyes in pleasure as her ears were scratched.

Where was Colin when you actually wanted him around?

"Um, I'm glad you're alright, Ammy. I'm sorry I didn't find you before Scrimgeour did." He shifted again.

"And thank-you, again, for saving me. I don't know how to repay you…" Harry lowered his head, blushing, before eeping and wind- milling frantically as he suddenly had an armful of girl, who was trying to thank and comfort him as she had recently seen others do. Thus, unaware, she glomped poor, unsuspecting Harry, who, with his head trapped between her breasts, was going a fantastic shade of scarlet. Issun burst into hysterics, pointing and laughing, while Waka snickered, before finally reaching out and rescuing the poor boy before he died of embarrassment.

"So," Harry said, smoothing his clothing and trying to ignore the heat in his face.

"Do we see Dumbledore, do you reckon?" Suddenly remembering his initial mission, Harry frowned.

"Cause I have a lot of questions, and I think it's time I got answers."

Dumbledore didn't look at all surprised to see them. Harry twitched. The supposed 'omnipresence' of the Headmaster annoyed him greatly. If the Headmaster knew everything, how the hell did he explain the last few years at Hogwarts? Harry stalked into the room, eyes dark, ignoring the spluttering McGonagall as she demanded to know what he was doing out of class. Harry took a breath and steeled himself, channeling his Slytherin side.

"Professor," Harry offered, before sitting himself down in one of the big squashy chairs.

"It has…come to my attention that you are keeping things from me. Again. What, last year didn't teach you anything?"

Harry's voice was bitter, and Ammy whined softly. The two professor's seemed incapable of speech for a moment, McGonagall recovered first, and her face darkened like a storm was gathering. All but unnoticed, Amaterasu, Issun and Waka settled in to watch the show.

"Potter," his Head of House began indignantly,

"I don't know what's gotten into you that you think you can just waltz in here and use that tone-"

"Minerva." The witch quieted as Dumbledore raised his hand, eyes a little more dull than usual.

"Now, Harry, I know the situation is hardly ideal-"

Harry laughed. Hard. He laughed so hard, in fact, his ribs hurt, and he nearly toppled out of his armchair.

"Ideal? _Ideal?_ Are you kidding me? You don't think my situation is ideal?" Harry paused to suck in much needed air, voice rising.

"What the hell is wrong with you people? You stick me in the muggle world, with absolutely no explanation, then you bring me into a world I know nothing about and watch me run about from one disaster to another like a rat in a trap! I'm not some pet! I mean, do you enjoy watching me get hurt? Watching me bleed? I've got so many people after me- but you won't tell me anything? I deserve to know! After all, if the bloody prophecy is correct, then it's all going to come to a head one way or another, isn't it? Are you trying to make me fail?"

Harry was too furious to notice or care that tears were slipping down his cheeks. Professor McGonagall's mouth was hanging open slightly, the dark flush of before had vanished and been replaced by pallor. Harry only had eyes for Dumbledore, however, watching the expressionless old puppet-master for any signs or hints.

"I can't keep doing this! I can't keep following your movements in dreams, following _Tom's_ movements, knowing what's happening out there in little pieces while you keep the truth from me. Merlin, is it some sort of game to you? Is this a power trip? Watch the Boy-Who-Lived run headlong into danger?" Harry's voice suddenly calmed, his thoughts sliding against his will to the image of Sirius falling backwards through the Veil.

"I can't comprehend why you're doing this to me. You can't protect me- I mean, just look at my fun-filled time here at Hogwarts, safe from danger!"

His voice softened.

"But if you keep lying to me, I know one day you're going to wake up to find Tom's won. And you know why? Because you refuse to live by the same ideals you fight for. Because, right of wrong, fair or damn unfair, I'm the best shot you've got. And believe me, right now things don't look good."

There was a stunned silence after his outburst, so deep Harry could hear his heart beating.

"I don't want to die," Harry whispered.

"So help me. Help me and stop helping him."

Harry was unaware of it, but he'd just delivered one of the most intensely powerful speeches of his life. Drained, he slumped back into his chair, waiting for the verdict, refusing to let his eyes drift away from tired blue. But once again, Dumbledore didn't answer, as Professor McGonagall pried her fingers loose from the edge of the desk and swiped a shaking hand across her eyes.

"Oh Harry." For a moment, her eyes were aching and vulnerable.

"I, I had no idea. We never…that is, we've never tried to hurt you," she tried to explain, heartsick at the raw, painful emotions he had revealed. Harry's eyes were empty, bled of emotion as he answered her.

"I know. But it doesn't change what happened."

Dumbledore still hadn't spoken, and Harry's nerves were vibrating, everything within him waiting for whatever he had to say. Unnoticed, Waka shifted slightly, eyes narrow as he ran his fingers through Ammy's hair. The goddess's ears were pricked forward, twitching slightly as if she too, waited eagerly for the response.

"Harry." The boy in question raised an eyebrow tiredly. He wasn't here to play games.

"I know you are aware of the prophecy now, Harry, but I don't think you realize how precarious our position truly is right now."

Harry didn't so much as blink, his eyes unrelenting.

"Hogwarts has long been seen as the stronghold against evil. As long as we stand tall, the world does not fear. Do you understand?"

Harry managed a minute nod. He didn't see where this was going.

"For any number of reasons, this is where, ultimately, Tom will strike. But the Ministry right now is ineffective, people too frightened and desperate to band together. It is vulnerable. Right now, our biggest fear is not Hogwarts- it is the Ministry of Magic itself. If Tom manages to infiltrate the higher levels, he will push this shadow war of ours into outright slaughter."

The old wizard sighed, leaning back in his chair and studying the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"The only thing Tom wants more than that, of course, is Hogwarts. It was his home, his sanctuary…and is a symbol of hope to the wizarding world. Just like you are a symbol, Harry, no matter how much you may wish otherwise."

The wizard's eyes were piercing as he stared across his desk at his student. Harry stared back.

"So. World domination, Hogwarts, and my death. Brilliant. And you found this hard to tell me because…?"

Dumbledore looked a little surprised.

"I'm not sure you comprehend-"

"Oh, I comprehend alright. The world's going to hell in a hand-basket. What I don't 'comprehend', however, is what on earth compelled you to keep all this from me- hey, Prophecy Boy here, supposed only hope! Even if it's not true, Tom's going to come after me again. For that alone, don't you think I deserve to know?" Harry leaned forward a little, disbelief clouding his voice.

"Believe me, if the last five years at Hogwarts haven't killed me, a little, _expected_ bad news sure as hell isn't going to."

Harry sighed as the two adults blinked. Behind him, Waka was once more laughing silently, but his eyes were approving of the raven-haired boy's actions.

Ammy yawned, flashing her fangs, and leaned against the swordsman's knees.

The day's after the Minister's, err, visit, were surprisingly peaceful. Harry, Hermione and Ron had taken up Ammy's cause, each of them competing to teach her something new. Hermione had begun pondering whether the girl could learn to use magic, since she was obviously magical, but Harry quickly reminded her that she couldn't speak, and thus couldn't say the incantations. Besides, he pointed out wryly, she hardly needed a wand, strange things happened around her all the time, and all she seemed to need to do was look at something. Issun, who for some reason got along great with Ron, mentioned something about some sort of Celestial Brush, but quickly lost the teens. A mute goddess and a green glowing person- ponticle- the trio got along fine with, but it took them some time to warm up to Waka. He was normally just a sleepy looking sort of shadow, really, following them around, but speaking only to Ammy and Issun. Hermione would open her mouth to speak, spot Waka's swords, and become suddenly mute. Ron couldn't really have cared less, after his initial plea for the swordsman to teach him how to use his weapons. One glance had shut him up. Harry watched him for a while, but Ammy obviously adored him, and if she believed he wasn't a threat, Harry could give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, all he needed to do was think back to the 'Minister encounter', and a dreamy smile took over his features.

No way this guy was evil.

Of course, Ammy's appearance in Hogwarts once more caused a stir, with the trio being shadowed more than usual as people fought to get a look at her. Amusingly, quite a few girls also shadowed them so they could stare and sigh over Waka, who never seemed to notice their existence. Instead, he'd give them a quick glance from the corner of his eye, smile in amusement, and go back to whatever he had been doing.

Slowly, Hogwarts began to calm down once more, and teacher's and students adjusted to the new, odd trio. Harry soon began to notice, however, that Draco Malfoy had taken to shadowing their steps as well, which made absolutely no sense.

He hated Harry. He hated his friends, Gryffindor, and everything related. So why, every time Harry turned around, did he find the blonde somewhere within sight? It was confusing, especially after the whole scandal involving his family, which Harry and his friends had followed with some relish. Remembering the events of the past, Harry just couldn't feel sorry for Malfoy, not really. Personally, he believed there was no better place for Lucius Malfoy than Azkaban, and was only sorry his wife hadn't accompanied him there.

As for Draco…Harry wasn't so sure. Draco had been an absolute bastard in the past, but Harry wasn't sure what should happen to him. He was the new Head of his family now, but both his estates and his bank account had suffered massive setbacks, and Harry didn't pity him that at all. Actually working for something might help further Draco along the path to become an actual human being. For now, Harry was simply content that the Slytherin wasn't running around causing trouble like he had in previous years.

In between classes and teaching Ammy more about human life, the trio were trying to piece together more of Voldemort's plans using Harry's dreams and information gleaned from Order meetings.

Waka, Issun and Amaterasu had their own tasks as well. Besides watching Harry, Ammy had taken it upon herself to patrol the school, and every night without fail the wolf-girl could be found somewhere in the castle or on the grounds, head raised back as she stared at the moon. It was never clear what she was looking for, but the odd ritual continued. Despite growing tension in the political world, Hogwarts continued peacefully on- as peacefully as Hogwarts ever did, anyway. Harry found a new secret passageway, Neville managed to blow up multiple cauldrons, and Amaterasu ran into a werewolf one night.

She had followed the strange, wild scent to the fighting tree, and after some inspection discovered a way down into a dilapidated shack, where to her surprise she ran into an odd-looking wolf. She had run into werewolves before this, and was very puzzled by them. People in her world had possessed the ability to shift shape- like Oki and his tribe. But they did so by choice, and considered it a marvelous gift. The people on this world were cursed, corrupted by some strange, cruel magic that fused the worst aspects of man and beast together.

But this wolf was different. For one, it was not insane. It was not driven by ravenous hunger, or fury. Instead, she looked into his golden eyes and saw the soul of a man- tired, pained, old, but definitely the soul of a man. Fascinated, she sunk to her knees before the seemingly tame beast, her own fiery eyes flashing in the dim light. She drew in his scent, and huffed a greeting. The wolf got slowly to his feet, sniffing her in return, eyes curious. She was curious as well. She reached out and took his muzzle in her hands, feeling the thick fur beneath her fingers, staring deeply into his eyes.

Harry had spoken of a man named Remus Lupin, a werewolf, friend of his deceased parents. Frowning, the wolf-girl stroked the beast's fur as she thought back. Werewolves were driven by their own curse to inflict pain on others- but supposedly there was a potion now that enabled a sufferer to retain their human mind.

This, then, must be the effect. There were still vestiges of pain drifting in the calm eyes, however, from the torturous shift between natural and unnatural, and the goddess frowned again.

_Come._

The beast's ears pricked forward as the girl got to her feet and began to wander back the way she had come. She paused at the broken door, glancing back.

_Come._

Hesitantly, the beast did, ears flicking uncertainly, pacing behind her as she lead the way up and out into the moonlight. The werewolf trembled as the moonlight silvered it's coat and turned the wolf-girl into living light. The girl fell to her knees, crooning, her hands burying themselves once more in his thick coat. Once the beast stopped trembling, and began to take in the beauty of the night, the goddess regained her feet and drifted away a little. Staring up at the moon, the beast's only warning was a playful rumble before he yelped in surprise as something attacked his back. His head swiveled back to find the wolf-girl clinging effortlessly to his fur, tail swinging and her teeth worrying playfully at his spine. The werewolf danced to the side and shook himself, but the girl clung on, still rumbling, before suddenly leaping off and dancing about to bat playfully at his tail. Dumbfounded, the beast stared at her as she gamboled around on all fours like it was the most natural thing in the world, ears pricked forward, tail swishing.

When he did nothing but stare, the girl whined and crawled forward, staring soulfully into his eyes, mouth fixed in a very human pout.

Unable to bear that look, the werewolf tentatively licked her nose, and got a silvery giggle and a happy bark in return. The girl batted at his tail again, and this time the werewolf returned the gesture, and before long the two were rolling around on the grass like pups.

Remus Lupin hadn't known what to make of the girl. His mind wasn't at all human when he was a werewolf, but he remembered clearly flashing eyes, luminous hair and playful barks. He had awoken as a human man in a very awkward position- curled around a girl with wolf ears and tail like she was a pack-mate, stark naked on the grass near the Whomping Willow. Turning the most astonishing shade of crimson, the ex-professor had lunged for the fighting tree, slipping under it and into the Shrieking Shack, where his wand and some clothes waited. Dressing hurriedly, he had tried to reconstruct the events of the previous full-moon, remembering his usual sorrow for his lost pack-mates, then…curiosity. Joy. He had accepted it with the mind of a werewolf, but now his human mind struggled to understand. She had to be Amaterasu, the wolf that dwelled in the castle, who had survived the Killing Curse and been forced into human form. He remembered her vaguely from the Order meeting, but that had been as a human.

Wonderful. Now what? She was no werewolf- she had been human beneath the moon's light, despite her fluffy ears and tail. No, he corrected himself, not human, but something else. He'd never sensed anyone like her- couldn't even define her scent.

Creeping embarrassedly out of the passage way, Remus glanced around for signs of the wolf-girl, and found her sprawled comfortably on her belly, head resting on her hands just as her muzzle had once rested on her paws in that same position.

"Um, hi." Remus stuttered, blushing, eyes darting around.

Her eyes were amused fiery pools as he approached, seemingly untouched by his embarrassment.

"Amaterasu, right? Nice to, ah, see you again. You knew I was a, um, werewolf?" She stretched luxuriously, shaking out her heavy hair. She yawned, flashing fangs as she pushed herself to her feet and began to move towards the castle. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky rose pink and bathing the lake in lovely light as the two walked together. Remus shot Hogwarts a longing look, then sighed.

"Thank-you," he told the wolf-girl solemnly, remembering the bright shadow that had kept him company all throughout what was normally a cheerless night. He tried to say something else, but the girl simply nuzzled his cheek and drifted away towards the castle, where, Remus knew, she kept an eye over Harry.

With a great deal more optimism than usual, Remus Lupin went back to work.


	10. Predator and Prey part two

**Chapter ten: Predator and prey (part two)**

Life went on. Tom continued to work in the shadows, and the Order of the Phoenix continued to oppose his movements, while the Ministry in general floundered and Hogwarts sailed onwards like it was on a separate planet. Harry and the others kept on with their projects, learning magic and trying to piece together Voldemort's movements. Still Harry continued to dream about brilliant white light, as well as the red-eyed shadows and snatches of places he's never been. Waka and Issun ran the occasional mission for Dumbledore, but mostly they worked with the Trio. The two were also researching the fascinating uses of Issun's latest acquisition, which they found to be a Time-turner, enabling the user to travel in time. Of course, the whole thing was ridiculously dangerous, but Issun had already time-traveled before, and thought it might come in handy.

Then some of Harry's dreams clicked into place as Voldemort made his first bid for their lupine friend.

Amataresu as a rule kept Harry company- except for the occasional time she chose to stalk Draco, or check over her territory. She was not often alone, but it happened. Her friends, while protective, were not overly worried- this was a girl, after all, who had survived the Killing Curse and bitten the Minister of Magic.

_And every night the girl would turn her flawless face towards the moon as if waiting for something._

So when she failed to show one bright, happy afternoon, they were not initially worried. But as time passed, Harry pulled out his Map, meaning to check his friend's location- after all, he'd promised he would teach her how to fly, and he was sure she didn't want to miss that.

What he found brought him flying to his feet.

Amataresu had known something was not right, but had been uncertain of it's origins. She had circled the castle a few times, slowly pinpointing some odd, dry scent that sent her into a sneezing fit. Eyes narrowed, she had hunted it down, pacing deeper into the bowels of the castle, where the sun's light had never reached. The dust of ages tickled her nose, but something had disturbed the peace here, something besides the ghosts and shades that haunted it. Following the terrible scent dutifully, the goddess never even considered that she might need help.

The scent grew stronger. Lip curling a little, the wolf-girl sneezed silently as she stopped before the heavy wooden doors of a room. Curious, and with the stirrings of anger in her breast, she fearlessly pushed the heavy doors open, sending dust flying.

She paused in the door, nose flaring. There was magic at work here- she could smell death, old death, and a single, racing heartbeat. She stayed still, hand resting against the door as she glanced about, ears twitching. She blinked at the patch of shimmering air- magic- that disguised the intruder's presence.

She growled. He was the only one she could see, but she was wary, for the old death smell was not coming from him.

There were others in here, and she could not find them.

She took a step back, waiting. It was a trap, then.

Her ears flickered. She was undecided. There were unknowns here, but if she left now, they would disappear before she could bring help, and possibly injure others under her protection.

She growled again, warningly, dragging the sound out. The single heartbeat picked up, but nothing happened. His scent was oddly familiar. Rumbling, she stepped into the room.

The door slammed shut.

Things she could not see and things she could not sense lunged for her, the smell of death overpowering. The only light was from her, but all she could detect were what appeared to be living shadows, with coal red eyes and terrible claws. Before they could hit her, a fierce, strong wind sprang up, knocking the flying shadows off course. Several still managed to lash out at her, but she countered, her shield blocking one attack, her beads another. She rolled under the onslaught, still trying to sense her attackers. She felt oddly blind, and flared her light brighter in response, getting a volley of hisses in reply. The shadows drew back, fleeing to the deeper shadows in the room, and the shimmering magic that concealed the mortal man moved as a spell flew towards her.

Impossibly, a tree sprung up from the stone, stopping the spell cold. The tree only lasted a moment, but that was long enough. She moved towards this visible threat, and stepped into cold dark magic, the power of midnight, of nightmares, of murder.

The rune on the floor flared a sickly crimson, and she yelped in sudden pain as tendrils of creeping shadow tried to wrap around her. She shook them off, flaring her light brightly as she tried to step out of the rune.

It flared again, and she pressed against an unseen barrier, snarling in pained rage. It was everything she was not, and brought about memories of the Day of Darkness, when she had been so terribly drained, accosted by darkness. The sun goddess's light intensified as she tried to shatter the rune, but drawn in innocent blood it denied her. Instead she turned, determined to take out the hiding one. The drifting shadows weakened her, but she also weakened them, and her bead-necklace flared it's own light as she wielded it. The shielded figure was good, and managed to evade her first few strikes, but the lightning fast movements of the bead-whip out maneuvered him, and she struck viciously, determined to kill him and thus break the seal that kept her bound. She knocked him back, suddenly smelling his blood as he staggered under her assault, but the red-eyed shadows were back, inhuman faces screwed up against her light as they lashed at her from every direction. Her shield spun around her, flashing fire, and screeches sounded as the dark creatures darted out of range. She lashed at them with her beads, creating minor wounds and keeping them back. She switched weapons, opting for a glaive, leading the lightning from the sparking blade to its airborne targets, creating pained screeches.

They seemed to hate her light, so she set a group of them on fire, and the dungeon room erupted into agonized screams. Spinning and leaping gracefully within her confines, the goddess lashed out with fire again, cutting two more shadow creatures apart with her weapon. The enraged creatures mobbed her again, and she abandoned her glaive for her beads again, moving lightning fast as she dodged, ducked and evaded.

Something slammed into her from behind, knocking her sprawling to the floor, dark crimson light flashing over her and setting her skin on fire.

She had forgotten the mortal.

She yelped and rolled, dispelling the dark curse with her light. But the distraction had provided the creatures with an opening, and before she could regain her feet they were on her. She curled up as claws raked over her exposed side, lashing out with her own claws, rewarded by a snarl. Blows rained down on her, and she brought her shield out, but there were too many. Her own snarls lost in the cacophony of battle, the goddess deflected another attack, but a flying wing-tip sliced open her cheek and sent her own blood rolling down into her mouth. Coughing, she drove her feet up, hard, driving the breath from one of the beasts, and as fangs sank greedily into her shoulder she lost it completely, lashing out with fire and wind, leaping up to sink her own teeth into an attacker, shaking her head with brutal strength until she heard a snap.

The rest was a whirl of shrieking, blood and shadow.

Once again, Harry found himself leading a group through the castle, following the directions of the Marauder's Map. Ammy's dot, titled, oddly, as Okami Amaterasu, was somewhere deep within the dungeons, and the further they followed, the more obvious it became, as the dust thickened until they could make out a single set of footprints.

Around her 'dot' was an absolute swarm of other, blinking dots, although as Harry watched, a few disappeared.

He'd never seen that happen before, and his throat tightened. Of all the names surrounding the wolf-girl, he recognized only one.

Fenrir Greyback.

Waka's ears were more sensitive than the others, and he was the first to hear signs of trouble. Instantly he reacted, lunging forward and leaving the others to run after him, honing in on the surge of dark magic and inhuman screams.

A door barred him- he kicked it in, lashing at it with physical and psychic strength. It shattered, and he ducked into the room, eyes drawn instantly to the only true source of light- the sun goddess locked into gruesome battle with strange shadowy creatures.

Even as his eyes swept over the battle, detecting blood and death he was moving, sword appearing in his hand as he leapt into the melee without thinking. He saw only the dark creatures, and the blood staining flawless white, and he didn't even register Harry's horrified gasp as he appeared in the doorway.

Meanwhile, Ammy had finally encountered Fenrir, and with savage snarls they flew at each other, surrounded by the vampires swooping through the air like shadows of death.

Heedless now of the aerial attacking force, the goddess snapped at her enemy, registering him at close range as a werewolf, his scent tainted by madness. Fenrir tried to get a lock on her throat- but as a man fighting as a werewolf, even his years of blood-stained horror couldn't touch upon Amaterasu's centuries of experience as a wolf. She ghosted around him, scenting his blood as he scented hers.

She had drawn first blood, and she was determined to draw last blood.

Issun stayed on Waka's shoulder, only attacking when foolish vampires strayed too close, his tiny blade creating small, but surprisingly deep wounds. His true contribution to the fight was his brush skills- he had not the breadth and strength of Ammy's attacks, but from a mortal stand-point he was quite extraordinary.

The creepy red-eyed flying shadow thingies, he found, quite detested fire.

Harry ran through three spells repeatedly- _lumos_, _protego_, and_ incendio_. Slowly, the trio fought closer to Ammy- only to find themselves repelled by a sickly crimson barrier. Harry swore, noting that the vampires flew back and forth as if the barrier didn't exist. He saw the rune on the floor- but he had never taken Ancient Runes, and had the feeling that even if he had, he wouldn't have recognized the markings on the floor.

Just looking at it made him feel ill. Regardless of that, he knew Ammy was trapped within, so aimed his wand at the barrier and began yelling spells, trying to break down the magic.

The barrier continued to resist. Cursing, the youth attacked it again, grim emerald eyes determined. Waka kept the vampires off him with lightning fast attacks, swords bloody silver flashes. He never stopped moving, the only warning the vampires got was a golden flash and then pain.

The vampires under the furious assault, began to fade back, but the fight within the barrier continued unrelenting, with Issun yelling out encouragement at odd moments.

"Yeah, go for the throat! Get him Ammy, get him!"

Amaterasu had never met a werewolf in human form quite like this one. Regardless that the full-moon was weeks away, the man's eyes were a sickly yellow, his canines unnaturally pronounced, his fingers more like claws. For a human, he was incredibly strong, his reflexes animalistic, his eyes nothing but feral fury and sick joy.

It was if he was continually caught mid-transformation, delighting in the carnage he caused. She scanned him for any trace of light, and found none. She settled back on her haunches, ears flat, teeth bared.

She would ensure that this beast was not free to roam her territory. When she was finished, nothing of his taint would remain.

Yowling they flew for each other's throats, more like wolves than the humanoid forms they currently possessed. She twisted as she leapt, using her greater reach to fly over him, glancing a wicked blow over his back. There was a pained yelp, and the werewolf spun with terrifying speed, claws lashing out. She spun just out of reach, her clothes tearing with the blow. They were relatively matched in physical combat- she was faster, he was stronger. However, she had both a defensive and an offensive weapon, as well as her Celestial brush. The werewolf had the advantage of a wand, which he used at odd moments to fling tainted cursed at her.

They circled again, eyes wary. She tried to set him on fire, but his reflexes yanked him out of range, so she lashed at him with a quick time attack before trying again. His fur-hair- was smoking as it faded, and in fury he threw a succession of _crucio_ curses, which impacted against her shield. She went on the offensive again, to find that the barrage of spells had been a diversion. She sensed him come, and managed to twist as he struck, his jaws closing on her side instead of her throat as she attempted to leap away. Her momentum worked against her, ripping her side open, and a pained cry ripped from her throat as she hit the ground hard, skidding several feet. Pouring blood she regained her feet, suddenly switching her beads for a glaive, choosing once again the Ninetails old weapon, the lightning glaive.

Hurting, but also quite angry, she drew a line leading the heaven's fire to her opponent, catching him in mid-leap as he went for her again.

He _howled_. She struck him again before he hit the ground, and as he convulsed, zigzagged in, the scent of her own blood in her nose as she tore into him with her claws, worrying at the back of his throat, shaking him again and again.

They rolled over as he desperately tried to fling her off, but she stuck to him like a determined burr, trying to tear him apart as she had torn the vampire apart with her jaws.

A pulse of dark, desperate magic from the werewolf blasted her back, but she had hurt him badly, and it was with anticipation that she began to circle him again.

Both bleeding they paced the confines of the crimson cage, yellow hatred meeting fiery fury.

They flew at each other again, both knowing this attack would be the last. The goddess's light intensified to an almost painful degree, tendrils of brilliant white power beginning to leak out as her true power showed briefly.

For an instant only, she glowed so, then the savage snarls ceased, and the body she was shaking was still, offering no resistance. She shook him again, to be sure, then released the limp form and disengaged, leaping back.

As the lifeblood left the werewolf, the crimson cage shattered like glass, the mark on the floor flaring briefly before dying away.

Whispering, the vampires bled back into the shadows, coal-red eyes bleeding hatred and blood-lust right to the last.

An odd silence fell, then the goddess glanced around, taking in the body of her opponent. Other than the blood, there was no other sign that anything had happened, for the vampires upon death had crumbled into ashes, their bodies slipping into the true death that had long since claimed their souls.

Ears flickering, the goddess checked the room once more, glowing eyes taking in her friends.

Then she threw her head back and howled.

Harry's spine tingled as the wolf-girl's triumphant song rang out, filling the dungeon room and spilling out. Impossibly, for a moment, he swore he saw a glimpse of the night sky, but when he blinked it was gone. Then the girl lowered her head, her song dying away, settling exhausted onto her haunches and trying weakly to lick the terrible wound on her side.

Almost before the girl's cry died away Waka was at her side, cursing as he ran his fingers over the terrible bite, the wound on her shoulder and the scratches over her back. He picked her up, her eyes half-closing in pain for a moment. Her blood smeared over his tunic, but he hardly seemed to care as he turned to Harry.

"Quickly, your Map, Harry. Lead the way to the hospital wing." Without a word Harry fished the Map from his pocket, still activated, and led the way from the room at a sprint.

They ran into few students- which was good, with Ammy covered in so much blood that if it was all her own she would surely be dead, and Waka in turn coated with her blood. Harry was a little numb as he led the way, a quick lumos spell lighting up his Map through the dark dungeons. Their entry into Madame Pomfrey's ward was heralded with a horrified shriek, as the healer swept towards them, pointing towards the nearest bed.

"Quickly! Put her down- oh my, what on earth have you been doing?" The healer summoned a potion from the shelf, and poured the silvery concoction down the dazed girl's throat. She unceremoniously shoved Waka aside as she bent over the vicious tear in her side, waving her wand in a sort of circle, muttering. She jerked back with a hiss as the wound flashed red.

"Werewolf bite?!" Cursing, ranting about dangerous creatures and dark lords, the healer summoned another potion from the shelf, very carefully measuring an exact dose out before practically shoving it down Amaterasu's throat. The girl coughed, but managed to swallow, whining miserably as adrenalin faded and pain kicked in.

Waka watched the healer anxiously as she smeared an oddly colored ointment over the girl's bleeding side, ignoring the blood for a moment. The wound _steamed_- and sparks of light raced over her skin as the ointment and the girl's own inherent magic effectively 'killed' off the nasty things that get transferred with werewolf bites, even from untransformed werewolves. Madame Pomfrey sighed in relief, somewhat surprised- werewolf bites never fully healed, and here the girl's wound was already closing over, although it would take more time to fully heal.

It had to be something to do with the wolf-girl's odd nature, the healer mused, unsure if she really believed in gods or not. Questions of divinity aside, the girl was certainly and unarguably odd.

Madame Pomfrey's voice hit another high as she discovered the origin of the vicious bite on the girl's shoulder- just missing her slender throat.

"Vampires now?!" She was going to have a lot of questions once the possibility of her patient's death was out of the way. But right now the girl needed more blood replenishing potion, not questions she wouldn't, or couldn't, answer.

Magic could be tricky with wounds from dark creatures. The healer grabbed some clear rags and summoned a bowl, filling it with warm water.

"Here," she shoved the bowl into Waka's hands.

"Do something useful- get rid of some of that blood so we can see what we're dealing with." Harry slid around the rampaging healer cautiously and helped Waka as they began to gently dab at the sleepy-eyed Ammy's skin.

Within seconds the water was tainted pink, then slowly red. The amount of blood splattered over the girl was incredible, and Harry could only marvel that it wasn't all hers, for surely she would have died.

Poppy eased the torn material away from the girl's shoulder and side carefully, and cursed softly to find that the girl's back was a mess as well.

"What on earth were you up to, Harry?" Harry bristled at the accusation, indignant that somehow every untoward thing that occurred in the castle got blamed on him.

"I wasn't even there! At first…but it was a bunch of vampires and Fenrir Greyback. They were in the castle." The matron spun to level Harry with a look that made him flinch.

"That monster? Loose in the castle with all the children about?!" Harry dabbed blindly at Ammy's skin, cleaning a spot he'd already done.

"That's why Ammy went him, I think," he offered weakly. Madame Pomfrey made a sound in the back of her throat, but her eyes softened as she turned back to her silent patient, whispering spells under her breath as she diagnosed the wounds and went about treating them.

Harry tried not to look at what he was doing, slowly blushing. Now that the girl's breathing had evened out and she was no longer panting weakly for breath, he felt more self-conscious about what he was doing.

Namely, washing vast quantities of blood off of a _girl's_ naked body. Well, not truly naked, she was still half-wrapped up in her torn and bloody robe. Waka seemed not to notice his red face as he gently turned the compliant girl over on her side, baring her back as he gently cleaned the deep slashes.

Through it all, though her three attendants were marked by her blood and the blood of her foes, and despite the fact that having her wounds touched must have really, really hurt, the girl made absolutely no sound.

At all. She merely let her head rest trustingly against Waka's arm, eyes half-closed as they bared each mark and went about healing it.

Privately, Poppy was astounded by how quickly her patient was healing. The nasty bite marks lingered the longest, but after a sound healing sleep, the matron was willing to bet there would hardly be a scar.

Waka whispered softly into one furry ear as he worked, brushing bloody silver hair aside. Occasionally he hummed snatches of very old songs as he cleaned a particularly nasty gash, and Issun was oddly, blessedly silent on his shoulder. Finally, Poppy shooed her attendants away, stripping the remains of the girl's robe away and replacing it with one of the plain garments belonging to the hospital wing. Picking up the soiled basin, she banished it's contents and refilled it with clear water, and gently, professionally, cleaned the girl's face, ears, and hair. Her hair took a while, but Waka drifted back from the door where he'd been lingering and between the two of them they got the heavy silver mass blood-free and dry.

Ammy watched them throughout, eyes almost closed. Finally clean and bandaged, the wolf-girl let her eyes slide closed the rest of the way, and with a sigh slipped away into slumber.

Then Madame Pomfrey turned on her audience, hands on hips and eyes grim.

"Right. Now you lot- tell me exactly what happened."


	11. Issun's highflying adventure

**Chapter eleven: Issun's high-flying adventure**

After the kidnapping? Murder? Attempt on Amaterasu, security at Hogwarts kicked up a notch. Tonks was only too happy to hang out with her 'favorite Gryffindors' and Harry noted that the teachers seemed to have set up their own sort of patrol. Harry went over his dreams again, able now to identify the crimson-eyed creatures as vampires. Pity he hadn't figured that out _before_ the attack. No-one really grieved the death of Fenrir Greyback- in fact, Remus went out and got quite drunk in celebration. The confirmation that Voldemort had at least some vampires on his side was something the Order argued about for quite a while, people once more trying to decide how to be more proactive instead of just reacting to Tom's latest plots. Shacklebolt and Tonks spent two full days in the dungeon room the attack had taken place in, running scans and compiling information. The rune Harry had described had of course vanished completely, and no trace of it's existence had yet been found. Hermione had taken to pouring over her runes textbooks, but Harry was quite sure that whatever rune had been used had been very, very dark, and thus the likelihood that it could be found in a sixth year's course books was as slim as the Chudley Cannons actually winning. He contemplated using his cloak to look over the Forbidden section in the library, but after the screaming book incident, had his doubts about his ability to break any protective charms the area might have in place. He thought also about asking Dumbledore for permission- actually obey the rules- but concluded that a sixth year with no prior experience in the subject had very little chance of finding anything useful. However, working with Tonks, Harry found that he could get more out of his dream-flashes by accessing them via a pensieve. What came too fast in dreams was much easier to understand when reviewed a few steps back and with an alert mind.

Voldemort was in some sort of cave system, and Harry spent more than one nauseating evening riding along with Nagini as she patrolled her home, tasting with the great serpent the foul, polluted air on her tongue. Sadly, none of his dreams came complete with handy maps or signs, and Harry and the others still couldn't pinpoint it's location.

That, in the end, came from an unlikely source.

A very unlikely source.

Issun, in fact.

Now Issun was in no way stupid. Sure, he could be a little babe obsessed, treasure obsessed, food obsessed…but this little guy was not a stupid ponticle. He was in fact, quite intelligent. He knew his art, (he was an extraordinary artist, after all) was something of a connoisseur of fine food and fine women. He was surprisingly dangerous with that toothpick he called a sword, and was a constant source of either amusement or irritation, depending on a person's mood.

Issun was a piece of work, alright. But he was an all-around nice guy, too. He also had a habit of getting into trouble. While he wasn't a magnet on the level of Harry or even Ammy, he nonetheless seemed to invite the occasional disaster just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Think about it- he sort of runs away from home, naps in a tree-sprite's bosom and misses the damn near end of the world, joins a newly awoken goddess to steal the thirteen Celestial brush techniques and inadvertently save the world. Not to mention the dozens of little stories he'd gotten involved in. (He blamed Ammy for this- why by the Celestials did she have to help every kitten/kneazle out of a tree it got itself stuck in? And cats may respect wolves, but they looked at Issun's tiny glowing self as entertainment or food- sometimes both.)

It sucked being little sometimes. Othertimes, it was rather useful…

But Issun was only after food when his little adventure began. He was using his sword for something a little less awe inspiring than stabbing vampires- he was cutting off some bread from a loaf and smearing it with delicious jam.

Jam…

He'd long since gotten over his initial shock at the arrival of the post owls, and no longer had to suppress the urge to cower and dodge as winged shadows with claws of death passed overhead. (Owls, not vampires.)

So when the barn owl flared it's wings and dropped in beside him to present it's leg to Harry, Issun only flinched instead of diving behind the milk pitcher with blade bared.

Besides, he could roast it's ass with his awesome brush skills.

So Issun was only concentrating on the awesomeness that is jam, and was utterly unaware that the owl was anything other than what it seemed.

Technically, it _was_ just an owl doing what owl's do best- delivering things. The fact that it was being used to do evil was irrelevant to the innocent bird. Harry, still talking to Ron, reached out absently to take the letter from the owl, but attention on his friend, accidentally dropped it. The innocent looking letter flashed a heavy gold as it hit the table- and Issun who was sinking his teeth into his breakfast.

Both vanished.

Ron swore, alerting the whole table and several people nearby that something was wrong, but Harry just stared at the empty spot that had seconds ago held Issun and his mystery letter. The owl hooted, flaring it's wings in alarm, and leapt into the air. Automatically Harry stunned it, and the bird thudded back onto the table heavily. There was an odd, brief flare of green light.

"Portkey," Harry rasped.

Issun, meanwhile, was far away. Really far away when you take into consideration what distance means to a ponticle, who after all are small enough to take grass as tree size. The world spun sickeningly, and the ponticle groped uselessly for something to hold onto, breakfast flying out of his mouth. Instinctively knowing that whatever was happening was being orchestrated by a certain Dark Lord with an inferiority complex, the ponticle, not surprisingly, freaked. His mind whirled as crazily as he himself was being whirled- like he was in that crazy whirlpool back on Nippon. Then the magic ended and the ponticle was dumped into darkness, eyes swirling as he vaguely thanked all the gods he could think of for his helmet. The letter, containing the object that had been charmed as a portkey, thudded down on the ponticle's head, momentarily hiding him from view. Swirly-eyed, the ponticle stayed still, trying to catch his breath after the wild ride.

"My Lord?" Issun twitched as a voice boomed from somewhere overhead.

"The portkey activated, but it doesn't appear to have worked- it must not have been able to take such substantial mass as a person through Hogwart's wards."

Bad luck for Issun, really.

"So I can see, Narcissa," a voice hissed from somewhere nearby.

"But then, you always had quite the talent for pointing out the obvious. It seems little Pettigrew's brilliant plan has failed…how sad." The ponticle shivered at the malevolence in that voice, which from the other's address, seemed to be…uh oh.

"I will allow you to break the news to the rat. After all, after Lucius's…disappointment… I know you will do so much better. Won't you, pet?" The ponticle felt the vibrations through the ground as the aristocrat executed a trembling bow, gratefully abandoning her Lord's presence.

The ponticle suppressed a shiver, listening intently. It was quite possible that he was now alone in where-ever he was with a Dark Lord, hidden only by an envelope.

This was very bad. Now, Issun was pretty handy with his brush skills, but he wasn't about to lay any bets when dealing with someone as crazy as this guy was supposed to be. Who actually wanted to live forever? Issun had only to look at Waka to quell any such desire- not to mention the possibility of having to deal with the prophet for _all eternity_.

Gah.

Bottom line, Issun was currently in the absolute last place he ever wanted to be. Alone. With a crazy Dark Lord. Probably far away form any kind of help. So he stayed very, very still underneath his envelope, rolling his eyes from side to side to see if he could see any cover beyond his pitiful shelter.

Of course, he was somewhere very dark, and Issun could only hope his natural, vibrant green glow wasn't bleeding right through his hiding place.

"No, not surprising at all Pettigrew failed," the hissing voice suddenly said, and Issun couldn't suppress a slight jump.

"But at least it will keep Dumbledore hopping, trying to screen his student's mail."

Dark amusement.

"I know that my _faithful_ servant's shall succeed where that rat failed."

Issun wondered crazily if all power hungry tyrants favored evil monologues. Look at the guys Issun had run into. Vibrations trembled through his body and the ponticle readied himself as a darker shadow fell over him.

"Let's see what my pathetic little worm used as a portkey…" the Dark Lord mused. Issun cursed curiosity in all it's many forms.

A pale, long-fingered hand lifted the edge of the letter, brushing just by Issun. As it lifted into the air, Issun used his brush to slow time briefly, and shot between Voldemort's feet, hitting full ponticle speed in seconds as he slashed a miniscule wound on the dark lord's ankle and shot away down the tunnel, searching desperately for somewhere to hide.

There was a hissed curse from somewhere above, and then crimson light splattered against the ground behind him. But nothing short of a fatal curse was going to slow Issun down, who ducking around a corner, found a little depression in the cave wall and promptly tried to become invisible. Back in the throne room/ depressing cavern, Voldemort's voice was hitting impossibly high notes as he expressed his displeasure to everyone within hearing range. Seconds later, Issun was being jostled around by the vibrations of many feet as his minions-er, death eaters- came barreling down the passageways to come to his aid. With the knowledge that very soon lots of nasty people were going to be searching for him, Issun began to look around again for a better hiding place- or, more importantly, an exit.

No natural light reached the ponticle, who was hiding under some got-to-be poisonous mushrooms and a few pitiful shattered rocks, and Issun had no idea where he should go. He settled on 'further away' from the dark lord and co, but as the Death Eaters split up to search for the 'unknown', he toyed with his sword-hilt nervously and began to wonder just where he was.

Underground caverns have harbored criminals since time began. Nasty things that hate the light and are often slimy, have burrowed deep within the earth to hide away. Even Sirius, un-evil and un-slimy as he was had hidden in his share of caves as he sought to evade capture. While Voldemort could have in theory stayed in a marvelous mansion under the Fidelius charm, he wasn't in practice actually going to trust the location of his honored self to one of his followers or to a charm that had failed the Potter's so badly. (And anything to do with the Potter's he avoided.) His hideaway was accessed with the greatest of ease- as long as you were marked with the Dark Mark you could apperate into a specially warded 'room' in the underground cave system. The death eater's didn't actually know where they were- Voldemort had hidden the entrance beneath a very powerful illusion, and therefore his followers couldn't betray him. A few of the more intelligent, of course, secretly began to collect earth and plant samples in an attempt to figure out their location. Voldemort liked to amuse himself watching their efforts- and sabotaging them.

Being somewhat of a genius, it hadn't taken him long to figure out just what had inadvertently invaded his domain. Some of his more prominent pureblood colleagues had been complaining about a swordsman and a fairy for weeks now. He himself had only caught a flash of green light as the little thing fled- but he was secure in his certainty that nothing could escape from him here. And no doubt the little bug would have lots of fascinating information to tell him about the Order, about Harry, about this mysterious Amaterasu, all after a little persuasion…all he needed to do now was find it.

Issun was very good at hiding. For one, he was very small, and had a lifetime of experience. He could also briefly slow time down when he needed to, and move quite fast when he wished to. But two days of dodging Death Eater's without food, and without even a taste of jam, had poor, paranoid Issun on the verge of insanity.

This was no sort of life for a ponticle. So two days after being accidentally portkeyed from Hogwarts, Issun decided on a desperate plan. Extensive searching and spell-work had backed him into a smaller section of the caves, and he was running out of hiding places.

It was a dangerous plan. It was a desperate plan.

But Issun rather thought it might work.

It was both scarily convoluted and charmingly simple. No exit? No problem. Issun, explorer la excellence, had the answer. Get out the same way you got in. Now, this plan obviously had a few flaws in it. But Issun had an ace up his sleeve, so to speak. In his traveler's pouch, actually. A time-turner.

Luckily, he and Waka had spent some time in researching what the sparkling little object actually did and how. Issun needed to go back to just before this Pettigrew sent off his port-key, and hitch a ride with the messenger owl. It was fool-proof, Issun thought, since he knew the owl arrived at Hogwarts. As long as he got to the owl in time, he could get out of this maze.

Issun's tactics changed. Instead of just dodging his pursuers, he began tailing them, surprised at the amount of bickering that went on among them. It took him another half-day to locate Pettigrew, also called Wormtail, idiot, moron, traitor and a variety of other nasty names. He was a little man with poorly made boots. From Issun's vantage he saw tattered robes, a shining silver hand, and a glimpse of a pale, twitchy face.

This was obviously a man used to coming at the bottom of the pack.

Issun could relate, but from what he'd heard of the man, he had no pity for him. When the man wandered past Issun's hiding place, Issun leapt for his trailing robes.

He was grateful for the odd fashion for wizard's, the trailing robes were perfect to hide in, and also muted his glow. For long, breathless moments Issun clung to Wormtail's boots, peering through the holes in his tattered robes at the ground as it swept past.  
Step one complete. Now, Issun needed to wait, and listen. Ideally, he wanted to get back into the room he head arrived in. From what Harry had described of port-key's, which hadn't been much, Issun knew that a port-key needed to be created on the spot that it would return to. Harry had been pulled off Hogwart's grounds by a touch activated portkey, and also taken back by it. Wormtail's portkey activated at the first human touch- but Harry had dropped the portkey and it had hit Issun instead. But Issun had been under the portkey, and it had not taken him back. The Hogwart's wards? Had they prevented the portkey from returning? Or were there such things as one-way portkeys?

It was enough to drive him crazy. Issun knew so little about magical devices. But he knew the portkey needed to be created here, by the wizard he was currently with. So when Wormtail, finally, returned back to Voldemort to give him a flowery, pleading diatribe about why he couldn't find 'the fairy', Issun leapt cautiously behind the 'throne', listening intently.

"Wormtail, do shut up. I hear you irritating voice too often as it is, and never with good news. A trend, perhaps? After all, look at what happened to your old friends. If that is how you repay friends, why, I would be interested in seeing how you repay your enemies. Or I would, if I wasn't so sure they would destroy you utterly. I wonder what that werewolf friend of yours would do to you if he found you."

The implied threat was clear, and Wormtail broke down again into desperate flattery, bending over in a bow so deep his nose was all but planted on the floor.

"Wormtail, I do recall telling you to shut-up."

The little man swallowed heavily.

"Your port-key failed, Wormtail, but at least it managed to bring me a consolation prize. Soon we will have cornered our little visitor, and I expect he will have lots of things to tell me. Once again, Wormtail, you have accidentally aided me."

The sniveling little man didn't dare look up. Issun, peering around the corner, chanced it. He'd carefully cut a section of tattered cloth from Wormtail's robes, and wrapped himself up in it so his glow didn't give him away. As Wormtail made his excuses and fled, Issun began to properly study the new room. He hadn't been able to get a good look before when he had been running for his life, but now he could see that this room had only three exits- neither behind Voldemort's chair.

Well, he wasn't stupid. But there were two other chambers Issun hadn't explored- the left offshoot and the right. Which one should he take?

Neither, at the moment. Covering or not, Issun wasn't about to sneak across the floor in full view of the crazy dark lord.

Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. With a swirl of expensive robes, the dark wizard got to his feet and strode off- into the left passageway.

Issun darted for the right.

Finally, something was going his way. Issun stared open-mouthed up into the proud, unblinking eyes of half a dozen owls.

Jackpot.

Issun bounced over into the corner, leaping up to scan over the stack of parchment on the bench. There was still no handy map complete with X, but even a quick scan lifted the little being's eyebrows. Stealing a few of the more interesting pieces with a professional air, the ponticle leapt back into the shadows under the bench, and at last pulled out his time-turner.

Time to leave. Past time really, he was so hungry even the owls were beginning to look good.

He couldn't really wrap the chain around himself- it had been made for somebody a lot bigger. Nervous as he was, trusting himself to magic once more, the ponticle's hands didn't tremble at all as he spun the device back, counting spins carefully.

He set it for one day before the owl landed in the great hall, uncertain as he was as to where he actually was and how long an owl would take to get to Hogwarts from here.

The room spun sickeningly, whispers filling his ears for a long, confused moment before the room fell still. The ponticle staggered, silently wondering if all wizarding travel was this nausea inducing.

He frowned. The room looked exactly the same as it had before. But the time-turner had definitely done something, hadn't it? Issun made to move out, but footsteps froze him in place. He'd been ready for a long wait, but perhaps it wouldn't be so long after all.

"-send it by mail, stupid boy won't check. Then Master will leave me alone." This Wormtail was a pathetic character, Issun thought with a twinge of pity.

But he had betrayed his best friends to their death, so Issun wasn't going to waste his time feeling sorry for him. Now that the man was opening the cage, Issun noticed there were a few more owls than there had been a 'minute' ago. Issun crept out from under the bench and waited breathlessly by the man's ratty old boots as the man reached in for an owl. With an imperious hoot, the barn owl settled onto his arm, flaring her wings once importantly. With an impatient stroke down her downy breast, the traitor stepped over to the bench again, Issun cursing silently as he followed. A simple bronze coin came from the wizard's pocket, guided carefully with a _wingardium leviosa_. Once it slid into the envelope, Wormtail dared to breathe again. Issun slowly began to climb the leg of the bench, keeping a careful eye on Wormtail.

He needn't have bothered- the wizard was focused on his task.

The owl, however, with a predator's instinct geared towards movement, was focused intently on the little ponticle as he slid onto the bench-top, and Issun too was watching those intent golden eyes nervously.

Getting eaten would put a serious crimp on his plans. Not to mention it would be wildly unfair, considering how hungry he was.

He hadn't really thought about how he was going to hitch a ride with the owl, really. He was too used to meeting new animals with Ammy in tow, and with Ammy feeding every critter she ran into, problems like this didn't crop up. Not even the bears, or the lions, so terrifyingly larger than he was, had frightened him- not with Ammy there, calming them with her very presence.

If he lived through this, Issun decided, he would never, ever complain about her annoying hobby of feeding absolutely every animal she came across- indeed, he planned on learning from her greatness. If he could distract the owl with a scattering of grain so it wouldn't eat him, Issun was prepared to eat his words.

Wormtail, wand in hand, was directing a quill to write out a simple address on the envelope.

_Harry Potter, The Great Hall, Hogwarts…_

Issun cautiously slid around the owl in a sort of half-circle, golden eyes following every movement.

Wormtail was oblivious. The owl's feathers spiked a little over her neck, and Issun swallowed.

_Don't eat me, don't eat me, please don't eat me…_

Fortunately, as the great talons flexed on Wormtail's arm, the wizard completed his task and turned to the owl, fumbling with the little pouch on her leg. As the glittering eyes swept momentarily away, Issun took a chance and darted in close. With one of those impossible bounces ponticles are known for, he rocketed for the owl's feathery neck.

Thwap!

The smooth feathers softened his landing, but only a lucky grab kept the ponticle from sliding all the way to the floor.

His tattered covering slipped a little, and the ponticle began to pray.

"No need to wait for a reply, now," Wormtail was instructing.

"Go to the Malfoy's like usual, understand?"

The answering hoot was a tiny bit condescending. Now for the bit Issun had been wondering about, even as he floundered for a firm grip on the owl's neck-feathers. The owl seemed to know he was there, he felt minute flicks as if the bird was trying to dislodge him.

How on earth was he going to get to Hogwart's like this? And how was the owl supposed to get out of this secure underground hideout?

He didn't have to wander about that long. Once released, the owl glided smoothly across to the glittering silver circle carved into the black marble block resting next to the roost, and hooted impatiently.

Of course there was some sort of magical device to release the owls. Issun chewed the inside of his mouth nervously. Wormtail said something, and the world, _again_, turned to a whirlwind of sound and color.

A hundred feet above, an owl appeared out of nowhere, falling for several feet before opening it's wings serenely and going from freefall to glide in seconds. Issun, clinging desperately to the owl's glossy feathers, swallowed dryly and blinked away the dark spots in front of his eyes.

He hated magical travel, but at least he was on his back to Hogwarts, right?

Then he looked down. He would have screamed, but he'd briefly lost his voice.

Below, far below, a sprawling landscape moved past. The owl's wings lifted and fell easily, each movement, smooth as it was, lifting Issun and then dropping him again. Glancing down again, Issun swallowed and fixed his eyes on the brassy feathers his life currently depended upon.

The world continued to flash past.

Nearly a day later, the owl was just one of many spiraling down out of the sky towards the great windows of the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, while down below a certain ponticle was spreading his bread with strawberry jam and humming in anticipation. The same ponticle was also gliding in smoothly, dead tired and starving, through the windows and coming in to land on the table before a dark-haired young wizard. Eyes frozen open, hands fisted in shining feathers, Issun was completely unaware that he's arrived at his destination, and as the owl was divested of it's letter and lifted into the air, the exhausted haze that covered Issun's mind faded into the darker recesses of the stunning curse as they thudded back onto the table.

Harry's wand was still trained on the owl, even though he knew it was pointless. The portkey had already activated, taking Issun with it.

All Harry could think was that once again someone else had taken the fall for him.

Meanwhile, Issun was both floundering under an envelope somewhere far away and finally sleeping soundly not two feet away from him, half hidden under the stunned owl.

**AN: I have a bunch of assignments due now, so my next post will take awhile longer. On the up side, I have a week off soon, so I should get some writing done then. Hope you enjoyed the chapter**


	12. In your name

**Chapter twelve: In your name**

McGonagall was the closest teacher, sweeping towards them with a wand in hand. Amaterasu and Waka entered the hall together, stopping suddenly as they registered the activity around the Gryffindor table.

Harry lifted his gaze towards his professor, mouth working mutely for a moment.

"Port-key, professor," he managed.

"I dropped it- hit Issun instead. I Stunned the owl, but…" Harry's eyes dropped.

"It's alright, Harry." The hell it was, but Harry let her push his wand down as she gently lifted the stunned owl from the table, turning to head towards Dumbledore. Hermione gasped, and the teacher spun back towards the table.

Issun, glow unnaturally dim, lay perfectly still, revealed now that the owl was no longer covering him.

Harry's mouth slipped open.

"But the port-key…"

Waka and Amaterasu joined Harry, Hermione and Ron as they followed in the professor's wake. Amaterasu was cradling Issun's dim form in her hands, watching him with concerned eyes. Waka directed her steps as she focused on Issun's exhausted form, her glow in sharp contrast to his dimmed luminescence. McGonagall held the stunned owl firmly, her mouth pursed as she led the way to the Headmaster's office.

One of the few times Dumbledore didn't attend breakfast, and look what happens.

There was a clatter from behind them, and the group turned just as a figure rounded the corner.

"Came…just as soon…as I heard…" Madame Pomfrey gasped, one hand clenched over her chest. McGonagall sighed and shook her head as the matron straightened, smiling a little wryly at her long-time friend.

"Well, I can't say you're not appreciated. It's Issun this time, not Harry," she joked weakly.

"He was hit by a portkey, it seems, but something must have gone wrong…"

Ammy huffed indignantly, still cupping the little being's body protectively. Her finely tuned senses told her the little ponticle was near death- his body shutting down with nothing left to sustain it. She was feeding him her light- but he was no Celestial, he could not live off light alone. And there was something strange about him, a twist in the fabric of time about him. She conveyed what she could to Waka, who raised his eyebrows incredulously and turned to their captive audience, eyes narrowed as he thought.

"Interesting. Ma chérie here told me that the little one is in need of food and rest- she can't feed him her light forever, you know. Thing is, for him to get so bad she needs to sustain him with her own energy he must have been days without food."

He paused.

"And this is Issun."

Waka frowned as he remembered what else the goddess mentioned. Time. Something to do with Issun being displaced in its flow. Then his expression cleared as he remembered the fascinating gadget Issun had liberated from that boorish Ministry worker.

"Well, now. I think Issun is going to have a most fascinating adventure to tell us about once he wakes."

He refused to say anything else as they continued towards Dumbledore's office, instead amusing himself by watching Madame Pomfrey's attempts to study Issun. Short story- she tried to take him, Ammy's ears flattened. The wolf-girl trusted the healer, but this was Issun at stake, and the healer could practice her magic after Ammy herself had stabilized him.

Dumbledore had enjoyed a perfectly adventure-free morning. He'd snuck three whole cups of coffee without a trace of guilt, and was now offsetting the slightly bitter taste with one of his beloved lemon-drops.

He certainly wasn't expecting the little cavalcade that knocked at his door so early in the morning. He bid them enter, swinging his feet from his desk to the floor, smoothing out his beard into a semblance of respectability.

"Ah, Minerva! Oh, and you to Poppy, Harry…" the old wizard's voice trailed off as everyone crammed into his office.

"Now this is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked with some trepidation, after all, Harry was there, and through no fault of his own, the boy was a magnet for all things weird and dangerous.

"Albus," McGonagall began, setting what appeared to be an unconscious owl onto his desk, "There seems to have been a kidnapping attempt on Mr. Potter this morning."

Dumbledore stared at the unnaturally still owl for a moment before blinking, refocusing his attention on a remarkably uninjured Harry.

"Oh dear…I take it this owl has something to do with it?" Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly, eyes narrowing.

"Indeed. It delivered a port-key in an envelope. While Harry was not taken, the port-key appears to have affected the ponticle Issun." Dumbledore's eyes swept over the room, trying to spot him. Ammy shifted into his line of sight, her cupped hands hugging the little being protectively to her chest. Shifting his glasses a little, the wizard squinted at the ponticle's weak light.

"Oh my, I wonder what happened. Perhaps his foreign magic did not mix well with that of the port-key…what exactly happened?"

The Golden Trio exchanged glances.

"It happened so fast," Harry said softly, his gaze still fixed guiltily on Issun's still form.

"I accidentally dropped the letter, and it hit Issun. He vanished- it took him, I swear. I stunned the owl automatically, and when Professor McGonagall lifted the owl Issun was lying there too." Harry stopped, shoulder's drooping.

"It doesn't make any sense. I saw him vanish- but there he is." Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, biting her lip.

"It wasn't your fault, Harry. And you're right, it was very strange, almost as if he was in two places at once…" Her eyes widened slightly.

"Is it possible you accidentally Stunned him with the owl, Harry? If maybe the port-key malfunctioned because of the Hogwart's wards…" The girl trailed off herself, uncertainly.

"Interesting theory," Dumbledore mumbled as he got up from his chair and went around his desk to get a closer look at Issun.

"Of course, the only way to know for sure is to ask our little friend here." He reached for the ponticle's unconscious body, but Ammy merely pulled him a little closer, and a very faint growl shivered the air. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose slightly, and Poppy shot the wizard an oddly triumphant look. After all, she, a healer, had not been allowed too close.

Waka chose that moment to help them out, amused.

"Ammy will give our bouncing friend over to the marvelous Poppy momentarily, I am sure. She is simply stabilizing him. He went days without any sort of nourishment, after all." Harry and Ron blinked in sync.

"Days? But he was stuffing his face down there!" The red-headed boy exclaimed, confusion shimmering in his eyes. Harry refocused on Issun, eyes narrowing.

Before the teachers could chime in, Waka continued.

"So I gather. The port-key must have worked, but Issun, devious little creature that he is, simply came back the same way he left." Hermione jumped in eagerly.

"Oh, I see! Does he have some sort of temporal ability, then? There's an odd species of African frogs that can move backwards in time briefly. Drove the Ministry mad some years ago, they had an infestation…"

Waka laughed delightedly.

"Marvelous girl, but I'm afraid not. Issun here, simply liberated a most interesting device from one of your Ministry…visitors…that you might know of. A time-turner."

Jaws dropped, and the pieces fell into place. Ammy moved towards Poppy, and very slowly extended her tiny companion to her. Eagerness to tend her patient _finally_, flared in the matron's eyes, but mindful of Amaterasu she nodded regally and was most careful in receiving her little burden.

Four seconds later she was out the door and on her way to the Hospital Wing. Heedless of the conversation taking place in the Headmaster's office, Amaterasu followed, Waka just behind.

It was almost amusing, watching Poppy, eyes narrowed in concentration, slowly measuring out miniscule potion amounts into a hastily conjured cup the size of a thimble. She was extraordinarily careful with what she gave him, unsure of what might adversely affect someone of his species. It was heartening to see his glow brighten as she worked, and Ammy relaxed from her position near the bed, eyes softening. Waving her wand over the ponticle's still form once more, the matron relaxed with a smile.

"A good sleep and a hearty meal and Issun should be as right as rain," she said directly to Amaterasu. The girl smiled in reply, and nodded agreement.

"Hearty meal," Waka muttered to himself, and winced. Somebody better hide the jam… Still, arguments aside, the prophet did get along well with the ponticle and was glad he was going to be alright. Neither were ever going to admit it, but they worked well with each other, and had, gods forbid, become…friends. Amaterasu seemed to follow his thoughts, for her eyes laughed at him for a long moment before she shook her head in amusement and claimed the seat by the ponticle's bed. Issun was a speck of green light, ridiculously small against the massive, all-white bed. Ammy flared her fingers over the little being in motherly concern, eyes swirling, before she sat back again. She then proceeded to ruin her near-perfect imitation of human behavior by curling up like a kitten in a basket, tail over her nose. She still slept like this sometimes, despite the way her new spine ached at times. Centuries of habit are not unlearned in a few months, after all. Waka checked to make sure her eyes were indeed shut before stealing over to give the ponticle a quick once-over, before he crept out the door.

As the door swung shut behind him, Amaterasu opened one eye briefly, thumped her tail in amusement and then drifted into sleep.

Harry ran into Waka on the way to the Hospital Wing, almost literally. He avoided a collision by managing to fall past him, and lay stunned on the floor for a long moment, wincing.

"Uh, hi, Waka. I take it Issun's okay?" For surely if he wasn't, Waka would not be wondering around. The swordsman helped him to his feet. A quick _scourigfy_, and Harry was as clean as he had been before he collided with the floor.

"Fine, he simply needs sleep and a big meal." Harry nodded, glad to know Issun would be fine, then froze, eyes widening.

"Big meal? Like, as in bigger than usual?" Was that even possible? After all, it was impossible to store food, wasn't it? And considering what the ponticle considered a light meal…and the way he ate…Harry shuddered.

Waka looked a little evasive.

"He just needs to replace the nutrients he lost, that's all," Waka side-stepped the question, beginning to walk back towards the Headmaster's office.

"Don't you have class now?" Harry blinked, then his mouth dropped open in horror as he realized, that in all the excitement, he had forgotten his Potion's class. With a desperate curse, Harry spun on his heels and began to sprint towards his Common Room and his books.

"Thanks, Waka," he yelled over his shoulder, then began to rail under his breathe against the points he had no-doubt already lost.

Waka watched the boy sprint away, mouth curving in amusement. Then he turned and continued on his way, his eyes darkening to all the colors of midnight. He and the Headmaster had a discussion long overdue.

Issun slept for a whole day and night, but woke with the first glance of dawn's light across his face.

He'd been having a great dream- he'd been sleeping in his favorite tree-sprite's clothes when the most delightful scents had reached his nose, and he'd 'awoken' to find the village having it's annual celebration, complete with feast. Mouth drooling, he'd just been about to chomp down on some chicken when he woke to find the sun in his eyes and that the world had suddenly painted itself white. With a sleepy, muttered curse, the ponticle rolled over, trying to burrow down away from the light.

No such luck. There was a loud, happy bark, and suddenly the ponticle's world tilted crazily, and he found himself staring into happy, shifting eyes. Familiar eyes. The ponticle blinked himself properly awake, staring open-mouthed up at the goddess currently cradling him inches away from her face. She was beaming in absolute delight, and her light put the pale dawn to shame.

"Uh, I'm glad to see you too, furball," Issun said, trying to figure out what the big deal was. He'd just been sleeping, after all.

Ammy yipped a happy reply, cuddling him close.

Issun pondered her strange reaction, something niggling at the back of his brain, but another issue chose that moment to raise itself.

He was hungry. No, not hungry. He was _starving_. He was absolutely going to _die_ if he didn't eat something, and now. Clutching his hands to his stomach, the ponticle moaned pitifully.

"Oh gods…food…Ammy, light of my life, tell me you have food…please…" The large, shimmering fire-eyes blinked, then Issun found the world moving once more as the goddess turned on her heel and bolted easily for the Great Hall, and the food she knew was there. There was only a scattering of people within the Hall as Ammy appeared with Issun in tow, and the goddess trotted over to Gryffindor table and deposited the ponticle _on_ a plate and then sat back with an expectant look. Issun stared down hazily.

"Food," he said again. _Foodfoodfood_…

The House-Elves supplied, although perhaps Issun should have specified what he wanted beyond 'food'.

Perhaps not. A full English breakfast appeared around Issun like something out of a dream, and for a full ten-seconds all the ponticle could do was gape.

Then he dove headfirst into it.

The Golden Trio wandered into breakfast together, as usual, Ron and Harry still rubbing the sleep from their eyes and pretending for their bushy-haired friend's benefit that they were not, in fact, zombies. They made it all the way to their normal spots before they noticed the odd silence that had fallen over the hall. Every single pair of eyes in the room was fixed on the Gryffindor table with a sort of horrified fascination. The Trio blinked, and looked around, trying to spot whatever had distracted everyone.

They didn't have to look far. Ammy was a glowing vision not far away, her head resting on her arms as she stared at the table. Despite the absolute mountain of food surrounding her, the girl wasn't eating anything.

She didn't have to.

Loud munching sounds were echoing from what looked to be a plate of bacon, and Harry leaned forward in morbid fascination to find that the bacon was devouring itself.

No, wait, a glowing green something was devouring the bacon. And the eggs, and the toast, and the jam.

Issun.

It was impossible. How could something so tiny possibly eat so much? The Trio joined the rest of the Hall in staring.

Waka was no where to be seen.

Hermione was the first to break the silence, her voice trembling with what sounded like awe.

"God, Ron, he eats more than you." And louder, Harry added silently, as a bit of egg went airborne as Issun tried to devour an entire egg all at once.

Some time later, Issun fell asleep in a contented haze in a jar of jam, breathy little snores drifting from within.

"I think he's stopped."

"Shh! Merlin, don't wake him up, 'Mione!" Properly chastised, the first voice fell silent, and the snores resumed.

"I can't believe how much he ate." A whisper.

"Well, he didn't eat for days…"

"I can't believe how much he ate."

A brief silence.

"Do…do you think we ought to…I dunno, get him out?"

"Are you mad, Harry? He finally stopped eating. Don't you dare wake him!"

"I wasn't going to try to wake him, Hermione, I just…don't want him to drown in a jar of jam, of all things."

"I can't believe how much he ate."

"Shut up, Ron!"

Another silence.

"So, we just leave him there, then?"

"Well, I don't think he can drown in a jar of jam. Besides, he's snoring, Harry, he's fine."

"Yeah, let's just get out of here before something else happens."

"Your one to talk, Ronald, considering how you eat."

"Oy, I am nothing like that eating machine! I need food to grow, what on earth does the pipsqueak need it for?"

"Well, he was just inadvertently kidnapped the other day, you insensitive idiot," the girl snapped.

"Shh!" Harry leaped in, waving his hands frantically. The snores had faltered. Without breathing, the trio stared at the jar. There was a sleepy mutter, a pause, and then the snores resumed. They sagged, then gesturing madly, tiptoed out of the Hall.

After the Breakfast Incident, the day passed much like any other- except for the part where Harry and the others listened in on Issun's depiction of the events that had taken place when he vanished. The few letters he had pinched from the headquarters were read and re-read carefully, and all the teachers during their lunch break entered the penseive in which Issun had stored his memories of the encounter. A break-through occurred around one, with Flitwick excitedly pinpointing the location the owl had appeared over. Nods and elated expressions were exchanged.

They had a location. All they needed now was a plan.

Oddly penseive, Ammy wandered the heights of the castle, leaping easily onto the highest tower and sitting herself under the light of the sun like one about to take a nap. Her expression, however, belied her peaceful setting as she stared out over the lake and the Forbidden Forest.

It was a beautiful day, but the goddess frowned as she looked over the land. She sighed.

A snatch of flute-music whispered on the wind, and the goddess's ear's perked at the slightly questioning sound, glancing behind.

Waka landed lightly on the roof, lowering his flute slowly.

"Something wrong," he asked lightly, pacing to her side and sitting down. The goddess spared him another glance, then her eyes drifted away over the forest again. Her eyes darkened. Slightly alarmed, the prophet sat up straight.

"Ammy?" Her hair lifted in the breeze and for a moment he couldn't see her eyes, then she seemed to sigh as she leant against him. Confused, and worried, he wrapped an arm around her, and she nestled gratefully against his shoulder. He tried to think of what could be distressing her so, as they both stared out over the sunny scene.

"Is it Issun? You know he's going to be just fine." He glanced down at her bent head, running his fingers through her hair.

"Harry? He's a good kid, I know he can make it through this…" He trailed off again, frustrated.

"You know you can tell me anything." Her fingers tightened on his sleeve, but she said nothing. They sat for a long while in silence, then the prophet, eyes darkening as images began to dance before his eyes, lifted his flute to his lips and began to play.

Down below, students paused on the way to classes as snatches of bittersweet music echoed hauntingly through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It wasn't until the sun began to set that Ammy moved again, lifting her head to stare through the heavy fall of her hair into his eyes. Secrets tumbled through her gaze, but she didn't blink and neither did he. His eyes widened, but he said nothing as her emotions flashed through him in a wild flood. Then she slumped again, burying her face in his chest, and his heart faltered because for a moment he could have sworn there were tears on her face. He took a long moment to digest what she had showed him.

"Are you sure?" Stupid, really, of course she was sure, but some part of him had to ask.

She nodded.

"That soon?"

She nodded again, and the prophet tightened his grip on her as he stared out over the darkening world below, as if trying to spot the terrible darkness he had seen in her eyes.

The sun set and the shadows lengthened, and the two stayed on the roof as the moon rose and shed it's gentle light over the darkness.

"Has anyone seen Ammy?" Harry asked with a frown, twirling his quill nervously between his fingers. The Order was planning something pretty big concerning Voldemort, and Harry was full of jittery nervousness.

Hermione looked up from her book with a frown.

"No, not since earlier. I wonder where she is?"

"It's not your fault, you know." She didn't answer, and when he looked down her eyes were as unreadable as the heart of a fire, burning close enough almost to touch, and yet somehow as distant as the light of the stars. For all that he loved her, there was much about her he did not know. Would perhaps never know. Moonlight reflected off her hair, and the goddess looked up for a very long moment.

"It's not. It's never the light's fault that darkness rises. People give into their darkest fears, and they consume them. It's no-one's fault."

_But people die._

"Mortals die, beloved. It is part of life. Nothing can stop it. Not even you. But people need to be free to make their own choices. It is one of the greatest gifts anyone can give, even a god. Whatever happens, you have to remember that."

Her sorrow was ancient.

"Besides, what greater gift can you give than your love? Harry and Voldemort will fight. The Order and the Death Eater's will fight. And you…you will do as you must. As you always do." His voice faltered for a moment. He buried his face in her hair, and took a shaky breath, still reeling himself from what prophecy and her burning eyes had told him.

"Do not grieve the love and the sacrifices that take place in your name. Whether mortal or immortal, to love and be loved in return is the greatest glory we can achieve."

**A.N:** Ah-ha! Foreshadowing! The three D's- Doom, Death and Destruction. Well, Issun has managed a complete recovery. laughs Thanks for reviewing, hope you enjoyed! Oh, and to the nice reviewer whose reviewer seems to have vanished, the scene with Ammy, Fred and George takes place next chapter. Snape's gonna have a real bad day. Well, things are going to start happening now, better get writing, huh?


	13. Prophecy and Pranks

**Chapter thirteen- Prophecy and pranks**

Harry wasn't paranoid.

It's not paranoia when people really are after you- especially a dark lord bent on large-scale murder and world domination. So what if Malfoy was still following him around? So what if the Order was planning an attack on the Dark Lord's Evil Headquarters?

He still had his exams.

Really put everything into perspective, Harry snorted. At least he was being informed of the Order's plans instead of overhearing/eavesdropping or another head-splitting headache/vision.

"Potter." Harry levitated in shock, then spun around to level Malfoy with an incredulous look.

"Ahh! What do you want! Are you my stalker now or something, Malfoy?" Draco glared at him, opening his mouth- then closed it and looked at the floor.

Harry blinked in astonishment.

"Are…are you feeling alright, Malfoy?" Part of him couldn't believe he'd asked him that, but Draco Malfoy had been the bane of his life since year one and never, ever, missed an opportunity to bad-mouth Harry or his friends.

Draco seemed to be trying to find his voice, he looked at Harry then away again.

"I…I need your help."

The world stopped in it's leisurely rotation of the sun.

Or at least it should have.

Once Harry got over his initial shock- which took a minute, he stared hard at the other boy before grabbing his sleeve and pulling him along the corridor. If they were going to talk, they needed somewhere a little more private than a corridor in a school. He'd been fetching a book for Hermione, and had a short while before his unofficial guard got antsy.

Yanking a subdued Draco into an abandoned classroom, Harry locked the door and spun on his heel, wand half-drawn.

"Talk."

Draco did.

Enemy or no, it was wrong to see Draco Malfoy acting so…submissive, as if his fire had gone out. As he falteringly explained his situation, Harry, despite himself, felt the stirrings of pity in his chest.

Malfoy was stuck between a couple of rocks and a hard place, alright. Not only did the ministry completely not trust him- odd that- his father was in disgrace in Azkaban, his mother was a hostage of the Dark Lord, and he himself was caught between the Ministry and the Death Eaters.

It was a right mess.

And Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out why Malfoy had come to him of all people. What on earth was Harry supposed to do about it? But just as with the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry listened intently to the facts and, unconsciously, began to make a plan. He didn't entirely trust Draco, but there was far too much emptiness, too much honesty in the Malfoy heir's eyes for everything he'd said to be untrue. Finally, Harry breathed out in a sigh.

"And just what do you expect me to do, Malfoy?"

Draco dragged his grey gaze up into emerald. Confusion flickered in his eyes.

"You're Harry Potter."

As if that explained everything.

"I know my name, Malfoy."

Draco blinked again.

"You're my only hope. My go between. Look, Pot- Harry, I know we've never been friends, but this is my life we're talking about here! The Ministry respects you, so does Dumbledore's Order! You have to help me!"

Harry narrowed his eyes a little, surprised. It was true that, oblivious as he had been, he had a sort of unofficial weight in the world thanks to his title of the Boy-Who-Lived. He stared thoughtfully at the boy who had tried with every meeting to make his life at Hogwarts hell, and asked one question.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why, _Draco_, do you think I should help you? What is it exactly, you want?"

Malfoy stared at him, no trouble now in meeting his eyes, and red rose in his pale cheeks.

"You're the do-gooder aren't you, the Golden Boy?" Malfoy's voice was oddly without bitterness.

Harry shook his head.

"That isn't an answer, Draco." He used his name again, staring at the other boy fiercely. Frustrated, and scared, the Slytherin began to pace, robes whipping around him.

"I'm trapped, don't you see? Either way I lose out- one way, thanks to my father, it's a term in Azkaban, the other way I'll probably wind up dead! I'm not Death Eater material!"

"Took you this many years to figure that out?" Harry muttered under his breath, but Draco didn't hear him.

"It's not fair!"

Exactly the wrong thing to say to Harry. He took a step forward, eyes blazing, and the Slytherin's eyes widened as he automatically took a step back.

"Not fair? _Not fair!?_ You bastard! What do you know of it! Basking in the sick glory of a killer for years, living in Daddy's shadow…at least you have a father! He's in Azkaban because that's where he deserves to be! Don't you get it, Draco? _That could be you!_ Look at the choices your father made, and where they landed him! Look where _your_ choices have led you- and you have the gall to tell _me_ it's not fair? Not fair having your parent's murdered, not fair being famous for something you don't remember, not fair having to face death and danger because that's what everyone else expects! Look at yourself! Wake up! You can't hide behind daddy or Voldemort anymore." Harry sucked in a huge breath, then stepped back.

"You have to make your own choices, Draco. I can help you, but it has to be you that makes them. That's _why_. So what are you choosing here? Are you going to be a servant again, or are you going to be free?"

Heads turned when Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter walked down the corridor, side by side. Neither looked at each other, but there were no wands drawn, no heated words exchanged. Whispers followed the odd duo as they caught up with a relieved and suspicious Tonks, but no one dared say anything to them.

Approving eyes followed them, and the goddess watched them go.

Ron's explosion over Malfoy's presence aside, the others accepted the blonde's presence with the same awkward pity that Harry had felt. But pity alone did not curb their suspicion, and the blonde was always watched. Tonks especially felt that her day was not complete without tripping over the blonde at least once- a seemingly annoying but harmless pastime, in reality giving the boy a quick scan every time she did so.

Tension flowed down the halls of Hogwarts like some quivering beast, testing the air warily. Squabbles broke out between houses, and teachers and visiting Order members busy with definitely-top-secret plans spent their time mediating disputes with rapidly shortening tempers. The Golden Trio plus one, wandered down into the kitchens to the delight of the house-elves, discussing their own plans over hot chocolate and scones. Not allowed to go along with the Order- Harry rather thought Professor McGonagall might have a stroke when he tentatively asked- the teens none the less were the self-appointed Damage Control. Well aware that plans at Hogwarts _never_ went as planned, the Golden Trio pulled out all the stops, using the Map and their own connections among the students to ensure that when the cat was away the rats would be spelled, petrified and jinxed as needed. Draco, never having been a part of one of the Trio's plans, watched with mouth slightly ajar, until Harry suddenly turned to him and asked his opinion on the Slytherin Students. At first reluctantly, then with greater enthusiasm, the Slytherin began to outline the strict structure of his House, the general loyalties, strengths and weaknesses.

The group was walking towards the Common Room when Harry noticed something strange. Seemingly having forgotten that she now had hands, Ammy trotted past, a stick in her mouth and her tail waving madly. Promptly forgetting his companions, Harry made a bee-line for the goddess just as she ducked behind a tapestry.

"Ammy?" He called hesitantly, ignoring Ron and Hermione's confused questions. The goddess in question turned her head back to blink up at him, tail still thumping madly. She took the stick out of her mouth, revealing a wide, mischievous smile that struck the little group dumb. She whuffed softly at them, then continued quickly on her way. Harry stayed where he was, thinking furiously.

"Uh, Harry? Weren't we going to the Common room," Ron questioned.

"Don't you think that was weird?"

"Weird? Harry, Ammy is weird full-stop. Awesome, but weird." Malfoy fidgeted behind them, unsure of what to do.

"I'll admit she was acting a little…strange," Hermione allowed, "but then we don't know her all that well, really. So what if she likes to, uh, play fetch…"she trailed off.

Ron raised his brows.

"Fetch? Somehow I doubt that." Harry finally looked back at them.

"Fetch? Is that what you think?"

Ron blinked.

"Well, Harry, she was carrying a great big stick in her mouth…" Harry snorted.

"That was no stick, Ron. In fact, it looked a lot like…" He trailed off, both eyebrows shooting high in realization.

"Like what, Harry?"

"Well, you remember George and Fred's fireworks, don't you?"

"Yeah, but what…oh Merlin you're kidding me."

The group hastened down the passageway, as the wolf-girl stepped out into another corridor, swinging her head back and forth a few times, sniffing at the air. Apparently the way was clear, for she continued on, making a happy sort of sound almost like she was humming as she led her little band of curious followers to a little niche in the wall hidden behind a particularly fierce looking suit of armor.

"Well what do you know, Gred, she actually managed it," an impressed voice hissed.

"Wish she could speak, and tell us how she managed to liberate one of our latest and greatest inventions from McGonagall's iron grasp, though." A red-headed twin stepped out from the niche and patted the wolf-girl on the head.

"Mischief managed! Good show, Ammy old pal, don't know where we'd be without you. Pity we couldn't whip up another batch, but perfection takes time!"

"Er, George? Fred? What are you doing now?" The twin eeped lightly and spun around to level an intimidating stare at them- relaxing a bit when he saw who they were. Malfoy got an extra long look, however.

"Ah, young benefactor! What can we do for you today?" The unknown twin beamed at them, not at all worried about being 'caught.'

Hermione scowled at him as another, identical red-head appeared around the armor.

"You two! What prank were you going to do now! You know as well as everyone else something big is happening, this is the last time that people need to be…" She trailed off, blinking, as the twin shook his head, stepped forward, and taking her arm began to lead them down the hall.

"Hermione, Hermione…tsk tsk. This is exactly the right time, and for the exact reasons you just gave! It's called diversionary tactics. And what better diversion is there but laughter? Right, Fred?" Fred stepped out from the wall, grinning.

"Exactly, brother mine! Exactly. Our devious little friend Ammy here has proved surprisingly useful. We still can't figure out how she can cross the teacher's wards so easily- but we're not complaining!" Sort of morbidly curious, Harry trailed behind them, Ron at his heels wearing a doomsday expression.

"Cheer up, Ron. At least this way you won't have to be on the receiving end." All but bouncing, Ammy bought up the rear.

"Oh my." Hermione breathed, a little awed despite herself.

"Just look at all this…" She bent over the nearest desk and the bubbling potion on top, then crossed to another and stared down at the objects scattered across it.

"If you two put a fraction of the effort into your school-work as you did your pranks, you'd be giving me a run for my money," the witch said, shaking her head. Harry lit up looking over everything, then smirked.

"I think Gred and Forge are right, Mione. You yourself said we needed to distract people from the upcoming badness. What better way could their be?"

The twins stared at him, then at each other, then both grinned in a highly disturbing manner.

"Oh, right on, Harry old friend."

Evening meal was as tense as all the rest, people in turn talking either too loud or in whispers, eating only quick bites as they scanned the hall as if expecting Death Eaters to jump out at them. What they _should_ have been worried about was the oh-so conspicuous absence of both the Golden Trio and the Weasley Twins from the Gryffindor table.

Everything was normal until dessert. Lulled into a false sense of security, people dug into their chocolate pudding and ice-cream with gusto.

Then approximately half the hall sprouted some sort of animal related accessory. Before spoons could finish clattering to tables, the other half began to float up into the air, the girls with shrill screams. For a moment everything was chaos, then suddenly somebody began to laugh.

Complete with furry tail, Neville was choking on his own laughter as he stared at Luna as she bobbed near the roof, seemingly enchanted by the lovely ceiling and not at all bothered by suddenly taking flight. (Pansy was not nearly so calm- the self-proclaimed brilliant flyer was shrieking shrilly as she circled Slytherin table.)

Soon everyone was laughing- especially when Dean and Seamus locked their powerful stag horns and began to wrestle over the last of the soufflé. Fifteen minutes later, Dumbledore guided the last errant student down from the ceiling- including a disappointed Luna. The tenseness was gone from the air, people talking loudly and brightly as they exclaimed over the hall-wide prank.

Then a firework rolled into the room and exploded with a loud bang, startling Luna right back into flight as a dragon made out of light whooshed into the air and began to circle the hall complete with realistic roars. Delighted and terrified screams sounded as the gigantic firework creature roamed through the air, Flitwick exclaiming with shock as he scanned the numerous charms placed on it.

Finally the firework dived down at the Slytherin table with a shriek, where it suddenly and shockingly detonated like a bomb going off and showered the table with pink glitter.

_Pink_ glitter. About the most un-evil color you could pick.

A shocked silence fell.

Speaking of bombs, Ammy was so delighted with the firework beast that she created three bombs in quick succession and placed them in the centre of the hall. All eyes fixed on the suddenly appearing tricks and the alarming sight of three rapidly burning fuses.

"Wha-"

Ka-Boom!

Ka-Boom!

Ka-Boom!

Almost simultaneously the bombs went off with a roar like the world was ending, scorching and blasting the ground and rocking the great tables with an explosion of light and sound. As hundreds of shell-shocked eyes stared, confetti began to flutter down.

Just outside the hall, the Weasley Twins turned to stare at their luminous companion, who was beaming in utter delight.

"You have _got_ to show me how you did that." The girl cocked her head to her side, then glanced back into the hall, where a sudden wind kicked up and threw confetti and glitter about without prejudice.

Pranks continued to be played on the inhabitants of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with Fred and George in an unofficial prank war with Amaterasu. With every new trick pulled by the goddess the twins became even more determined to learn her secrets. Harry and his friends watched them with bewildered amusement and lots of caution. The twins were already legendary for their pranks. Amaterasu was quickly amassing a reputation for herself, students were learning to look around corners for bombs or tell-tale flickers of wind. The Slytherin- Gryffindor combined classes found their potions class overgrown with trees and flowers that resisted any and all attempts to 'relocate' them. They all missed their next classes when they suddenly found that Ammy had also grown some of the more exotic magical species of plants impossibly from the stone floor, with such lovely additions as the Strangling Snare and the Duplication flower. On the upside from fighting and being strangled and eaten by flowers, it took Snape all day just to fight a way free for them all. Rumor had it that he had to approach Amaterasu about dispelling the plants after some of his more nasty potions failed to so much as dent the happy flora. Ammy eventually cleared his rooms, but immediately after the potions master found himself with his own personal rain-cloud, happily following him around and drenching him and only him.

Harry got through an entire potions class without sniping back once, he was so delighted by the sight of his dripping, near-homicidal teacher.

Despite these happy events, however, time continued to march closer to the raid on Voldemort's hideout. And no matter how many bombs, trip-wires or fireworks went off, that wasn't going to change. Harry began to follow Amaterasu around on her nightly patrol, helplessly on edge. He was a huge target right now, and he still had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to defeat a dark lord. For the level he was at, Harry had a very impressive repertoire of spells, and was the best in his year in Defense against the Dark Arts.

Wonderful. But Harry also knew just how little that really meant. He still practiced his spells and worked on his speed, but Harry knew he could spend years doing this and end up nowhere near Tom's level. In the end, this was because Harry was Harry, not Tom, and Harry could never sacrifice what Tom Riddle had to become what he currently was. No, Harry would rather die.

He had a sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what was going to happen.

One evening as Ammy was winding down her patrol, Harry ran into Waka once more, who had been conspicuously absent in the previous days. The swordsman was balanced improbably on one of the tower-tops, playing an eerie melody that raised the hair on the back of the teen's neck. Spotting them, the swordsman lowered his flute and fell lightly through the window, flashing Harry a quick nod and running his fingers through Ammy's hair.

"Harry." Harry gave Waka an awkward wave in return, then returned to rolling his wand between his fingers. Waka had a thoughtful frown on his face as he looked the teen over, his eyes oddly distant. Amaterasu leant briefly against Waka's side for a moment, then straightened and began to lead the way out of the tower. Harry followed her, still spinning his wand.

"Know this, you who count among the Chosen," Waka said suddenly from behind him.

"No evil is eternal. Shadows fall only where the light shines. Choice is a reflection of freedom, love a reflection of life. Beneath the light you will face a choice, and your fate hinges upon your acceptance of these things. Do not be afraid. Look for the silver path and when the Fire calls answer."

Harry nearly tripped spinning around to stare, but Waka had already vanished, and from outside Harry could hear snatches of music on the wind.

Now, Harry was understandably wary of so-called prophecy. Look at his divination professor. But he also knew of 'real' prophecy, and the swordsman word's sent wave after wave of cold through his veins. Still spinning his wand nervously around the teen followed after Amaterasu, committing the words to memory, but focusing more on the here and now.

What came, came. He would just have to deal with it then.

**A.N:** Yo, folks, that's all for a while, cause it's time for all my final assignments and exams and so on, plus cramming all of my stuff somehow in my car and driving all the way home. Sigh. So you're not going to get an update for a while. This was the last happy chapter, too, so enjoy. Not that I'm saying everything is going to be completely miserable from here on out, but things are going to get a little-rough. We're near the end now, after all. See ya…soonish…


	14. Pieces in Play

**Chapter Fourteen**- **Pieces in play**

Dumbledore and his band of merry men- er, not really, no one ever proclaimed Moody as _merry_, let alone Snape, met in the wee small hours of the morning as they prepared to directly attack Voldemort's forces. The Order of the Phoenix were dressed smartly in smooth, dark robes that blended into the shadows, faces tense as they awaited the word that would mark the beginning of their assault. They were nervous, but resolute, and the edges of desperate hope burned in their eyes as they contemplated their actions. Dumbledore watched over them like some sort of god over his people, commanding them with nothing more than a glance. This was their chance to take the fight to Tom, to cut out his support, to weaken his defenses. If they could but succeed now, they could undermine Voldemort's war effort, they could perhaps shorten this, the Second War. Dumbledore truly hoped, that with Tom's followers out of the way, Harry would be able, with their help of course, to defeat the Dark Lord when next they met.

Yes, Dumbledore had high hopes for this day.

So did Voldemort, but for vastly different reasons.

Harry knew they were leaving. He was furious he was forbidden from going, as if he was some sort of errant pet, or something, sulking about being left behind.

In the end, Harry knew the final blow was going to be his, and logically, he should be included. Sadly, no one else seemed to realize this. He knew this was the day, as he sat cross-legged on his bed, long since dressed, Marauders Map spread out over his lap. He flared his fingers over the tiny dots as they gathered in the Great Hall, fingers hesitating over names as he read over them in his mind.

_Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Alastor Moody_, his mouth tightening as he lingered over every name he knew.

He wondered just how many people would be returning, come true daylight?

_Waka, Issun, Okami Amaterasu_…

In the Great Hall, the sun goddess titled her head back as if she could see the true sky in the false, enchanted beauty above her. The moon was full and heavy, half obscured by clouds. The world was dark and still, still sleeping, and she hesitated, her head swinging back and forth between Albus Dumbledore and the direction of Gryffindor tower.

The prophet and the ponticle watched her movements with worried eyes.

A werewolf paced the floor of the Shrieking Shack, growling faintly, while inside what was left of Remus Lupin worried for what remained of his Pack.

And Tom Marvello Riddle? No-one but himself knew where he was…and he wasn't telling.

The Order of the Phoenix walked slowly outside, and port-keyed away in the darkness. Hogwarts slept on, unaware of the momentous events taking place beyond its walls. Harry folded his Map away as the 'dots' vanished, sighing heavily, and prayed fiercely for those that had just left. Unable to sleep, he wandered down to the kitchen, where house-elves gave him a mug of hot-chocolate and soft, concerned queries as they tried to stuff various foods down his throat. Finally Harry pried himself away from the warmth of the fire, and still cradling his drink, began to wander down the halls of Hogwarts, peering out the windows and trying to guess what was happening.

"Harry?"

Harry spun with a spell on his lips, and only a blundering motion by Ron kept the redhead from being stunned.

"Whoa, Harry! Why are you up so early?" The redhead yawned, still only half-awake, and Harry smiled a little, touched that his friend had been worried and come to find him.

"Couldn't sleep."

Ron knuckled blearily at his eyes, and Harry marveled that Ron had managed to find him without killing himself falling down stairs or over a balcony or something.

"Yeah, the house-elves said as much. But what are you doing out here? Something wrong?" Harry threw his sleepy-eyed friend a quick glance.

"Just nerves, is all. Today's the day that…you know." Ron suddenly looked a lot more awake.

"Today? _Today_ today?" The redhead swallowed.

"Blimey. 'Ere, give me that." He swiped the hot-chocolate from Harry's hands and downed it in one gulp, leaving the teen blinking in bemusement.

"Okay, I'm awake now. So, what's the plan," he asked expectantly, shooting his friend a glance.

"That's just it, Ron, there's nothing we can do. They've left. Gone. Are attacking the death eater's as we speak. All we can do…is wait." Ron nodded, surprisingly solemn.

"Well, Harry," he offered, "that's their choice, right? I mean, they just want to stop Vol-Vol- oh hell, _Voldemort_. There. They just want to keep their families safe." The redhead looked away from Harry's sharp glance, coloring faintly.

"I heard Mum and Dad speaking one night when they thought we were all asleep. About why they were fighting. So we could all be safe. It sort of opened my eyes, you know?"

Harry smiled and grasped his friend by the shoulder.

"Yeah, I know." Ron straightened a little, his wan smile morphing into something more real.

"So, how about some more of that hot chocolate while we wait? I can tell you all about my latest theory as to why Malfoy isn't acting like such an arse." Harry snorted, and shoulders a little lighter, began to lead the way to the nearest not-so-secret passageway.

"You're never going to believe he's had a change of heart, are you?"

"Are you kidding? A Weasley sympathize with a Malfoy? The world hasn't ended yet, Harry."

Harry dumped the contents of his cup all down his robe with a start as an eerie, spine-tingling howl echoed through the window, eyes widening as he recognized a werewolf's howl. Eyes widening even as he frantically brushed at his chest, he darted over to the window.

"Ron, Ron, that's Moony! I mean, Lupin, Ron."

"It must be a full-moon."

"_Really_, Ron." Rocking on his heels, Harry peered down at the grounds, squinting.

"What's he howling at?"

"All the injustices of the universe? The fact that he's caged? The-"

"Ron," Harry hissed, grabbing his friend's arm in a tight grip.

"Look, what's that?"

Through the window, the two could see flashes of light, light that oddly looked like spell-fire.

The two raced each other down to the lower levels, leaping down stairs and sliding down banisters. They were just near the Great Hall when Harry swore violently and slid to a stop, looking back.

"Ron, we have to warn someone!"

"Of what? We don't know what's going on, yet!"

"I know. But someone has to know, just in case." Ron spun on his heel and grabbed Harry's arm in a vice-like grip.

"No, Harry. I am not leaving you. Yes, they need to know, but there is no way I am barreling off and leaving you to face whatever on your own. _Again_. Come on." And ruthlessly, the teen dragged his friend behind him as he dashed for the Infirmary, the closest place with an adult that was likely to still be 'open.'

The two were gasping for air as they slid into the Hospital Wing like sprinters at the last leg of a marathon.

"Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!" Like a pack of competing seagulls, they yelled the nurses' name frantically, not caring if they woke half the castle.

"Madame Pom-" The person in question came into the room from the side door, one hand clutched to her chest.

"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Potter! What on earth-" Harry cut the healer off, pointing somewhat vaguely behind him.

"Madame Pomfrey, you've got to warn everybody. Moony, I mean, Professor Lupin is out there, and someone's attacking him, I mean, we saw spells, I don't know…And you know what's happening this morning! We've got to warn everyone, something's gone wrong…" The teen broke off as Poppy, registering what he was saying, dashed to the fireplace and flung a handful of something in that turned the flames, not emerald, but pitch black.

"Sanctuary! Sanctuary to Phoenix, Abort!" Gaping, the teens watched the nurse as she spoke frantically to the dark flames, growing more desperate as no-one replied. Harry stared at her for a moment, then nodded sharply and spun on his heel, dashing back out the door with a frantic Ron on his heels, calling his name. Harry paid him no attention, mind full of possibilities, remembering flashes of spells and a lonely howl. He barely remembered getting to the Great Hall or getting out, he remembered only running over wet grass and the burning in his chest as he tried to spot Remus.

The fight had spilled over onto the grass now, and the breath froze in Harry's lungs as he saw the masked figures gleefully shooting at the trapped werewolf, whooping and hollering to themselves as they struck. There was an enraged roar from the left that did not come from a werewolf's throat, and then Hagrid was there, fists swinging, knocking a trio of death-eater's right over as he barreled into them. Harry, mind blank, blessed the not yet born day for its darkness. Oddly calm, his hand whipped out and grabbed Ron's shirt in a fist, dragging them both to the ground. With a whispered spell, he camouflaged first Ron, then himself.

"Ron," he hissed in what he hoped was his friend's ear, "we've got to get Moony away from them!" Cornered near the Whomping Willow, the werewolf couldn't get at the death eater's properly. By the same token, the death-eaters couldn't target the werewolf either, the enraged tree whipping out at them. They had the advantage with their spells, however, and unless something changed, soon, Moony was in serious trouble.

And Hagrid. He was somewhat resistant to spells thanks to his giant blood, but he was also a very hard target to miss. Harry began to crawl towards the battle, part of his mind wandering why the death eaters were being so blatant. They weren't even trying to be sneaky. This struck him as suspicious, but frankly Harry was more worried about Remus and Hagrid than anything else.

He nearly leapt out of his own skin when an invisible hand groped along his leg, until a hissed "Harry!" sounded from behind him, and he realized he'd all but forgotten about Ron.

"Shh! We've got to distract them somehow, Ron, so Moony can get away."

There was the distinct sound of a gulp from behind him.

"Harry, we shouldn't be out here…"

"I know, Ron, but we have to save Mo- Professor Lupin. And Hagrid. Madame Pomfrey's alerting the others…" Harry trailed off, remembering the nurses' increasingly frantic attempts to contact the Order. He threw the thought off, and concentrated on the moment.

"Alright, Harry. But we need a plan. We can't just run blindly at them." Harry stopped his movements and blinked, before turning back as if he could see his friend.

"You're right. I was thinking of working around behind them and attacking. You?"

"Um, I hadn't really thought anything besides 'Ahhh,' but that works. What about we attack from opposite sides?" The two whispered a moment longer before drifting apart, swinging around the mob. The werewolf continued to howl, voice raised in furious protest at this invasion of his territory, and Hagrid continued to be a fine distraction, although he was now visibly bleeding.

Harry crept up behind the closest masked figure, barely daring to breathe. As soon as the first spell was cast, it would be all but impossible for the others to miss them, they needed only dispel their camouflage.

But Harry planned on doing a lot of damage first.

"Stupefy!"

His target collapsed gracelessly, but Harry was already striking again, and a flash of light in the corner of his eye informed him that Ron was moving as well.

Moving on rage, Harry pointed his wand at Moony's attackers and snarled "Expelliarmus" with all his heart.

The spell worked rather well, and Moony took the opportunity provided by the lull to dart forward from the Whomping Willow and lunge at the nearest throat. Harry was swamped by a wave of relief as he saw his old professor alive and mostly well, but the element of surprise was lost now, and Harry found himself dodging wildly as he cast spell after spell at the masked death eaters. His quick reflexes and the fact that nobody could hit him with a dispel gave him a slight edge, and Harry was ruthless as he cut down any that was foolish enough to leave an opening.

Dumbledore was feeling uneasy. Not a feeling he liked at all. They had covered every angle, made contingency after contingency plan. This was their big break, their ace in the deck.

So why did Albus feel like he was missing something? And it wasn't the oh-no-I-left-the-kettle-on sort of bad feeling, it was the oh-god-I-fucked-up-and-now-we're-all-gonna-die sort of bad feeling.

So understandably, Albus Dumbledore was feeling rather unsettled even as his troops- his friends- moved into position.

He was missing something. He only hoped it wasn't anything important.

As the Order of the Phoenix moved cautiously over the wards surrounding Voldemort's hideout, they were unaware of the blanketing magic surrounding them. Magic that, as usual, blocked apparition, port-key…and not so usual, any outward magic.

None of the Order could feel their insignia's burning as a frantic Madame Pomfrey tried, again and again, to contact them.

None of them felt anything at all.

Meanwhile, unaware of the impending attack on his utterly empty hideout, Voldemort made his way through the forbidden forest, spinning his wand lazily between his fingers. Up ahead, his followers were waging war and being good little sheep, drawing all attention.

Leaving Tom to sneak around the fight and get what he came for. Namely, Harry Potter dead or dying, and Hogwarts, hope of the wizarding world, helpless at his feet. Once he violated the inner wards of Hogwarts and twisted them to his whim, the castle was his.

Voldemort didn't need his little cave system anymore, nor the treachery of the shadows.

Voldemort wasn't hiding anymore. Oh no, he was taking over.

Everything.

And running tirelessly through the pre-dawn, a wolf-girl moved with the wind as she raced back towards the place she had just left. Her heartbeat sang with the promise of battle, of beginnings and endings, and the goddess bit back the cries welling in her throat and bled everything she was into moving just a little bit faster.

Flowers trailed in her wake, and through the time that was neither night or day, the wolf-girl was a blazing comet of light, her heart whispering a name, her blood surging like a wave of something old and primal in her breast.

Above, the moon was heavy and full, beginning to fade away.

It would be dawn soon.

She had moved so fast that it had taken Waka a while to notice that Ammy was gone. Actually, it was Issun that noticed first, as he rocked on Waka's shoulder, little blade half-drawn. There had been no talk among them, stealth being their first priority, and Issun was nervous out of the warmth and safety of Ammy's fur. Unable to use his normal method of handling stress- talking- he fidgeted, flinging glances around him. He started as he looked back and found a lack of brilliant hair and shining eyes. Whip-lashing round, Issun searched the undergrowth with increasing nervousness, finally falling back against Waka's neck. For once struck mute, the ponticle poked against the warrior's throat, mouth closing and opening as he pointed at the depressingly Ammy-free space.

Waka flipped a hand at his neck idly, nearly sending Issun flying. Issun squeaked in dismay and nearly dropped his sword as he frantically snagged a hold in the sword-master's hair.

"Issun…" It was a hard-edged growl as blue eyes flashed down at him, but the ponticle's frantic pointing and hissing distracted him and almost instantly Waka noticed the sun goddess's absence. Hissing himself, the Tao Master spun in a tight circle, taking everything in.

It took him only a moment to work it out. If she was gone, it was for a damn good reason. If she was gone…

Swearing, he grabbed at his phoenix amulet and began to shout into it.

"Abort! It's a diversion, I repeat, Abort…"

There was only one place that the sun goddess could have gone. Shooting a glance at the fading moon, Waka turned on his heel and began to run, knowing there was several miles before he reached the outer wards that would allow his port-key access.

From his amulet came a frantic slew of voices, and a violent impact to the air to the north told him that not everyone had received his warning in time. Smoke billowed into the air, and one voice was cut off abruptly as the traps began to spring.

Forcing himself to ignore the panic of the trapped and the screams of the dying, the warrior, little artist in tow, continued on.

This was only the diversion.

Harry was beginning to realize that something was terribly wrong. Well, besides the whole death-eater-attack thing.

Things weren't adding up. And Harry had orchestrated enough diversions in his time at Hogwarts to smell a trap.

But there was very little he could do now. He'd managed to get Moony away from the whomping willow, but the werewolf had refused the safety of the trees, and had flung himself towards the attackers with a howl so terrible Harry had shivered despite himself. Ron was exposed, now, but had taken up Professor Lupin's old position and was, with some skill and quite a bit of luck, using the tree as cover as he fought back.

Harry stopped worrying, however, knowing that while Ron wasn't the best fighter or researcher, he was a rather good strategist. Chess had not taught him to dodge homicidal trees any faster, but it had taught him to use his mind, and most importantly to think ahead. The death eater's were unaware that beneath the tree was a tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack, and when Ron vanished from their sights, they thought he had simply disguised himself again. Meanwhile, Ron was hurrying down the dark, dusty passageway that lead to the supposedly haunted shack.

Harry had no such luck. Hagrid was swaying on his feet, and Harry was frantically trying to think of something to do to get him to safety. Plus, Moony was in danger again, although with their attacking force divided, the death eater's were visibly reluctant to take the werewolf on.

At least Ron would be able to get some help.

She was getting close, she could feel it. The shadowed one approached the grounds of Hogwarts, his hatred like a great overhanging cloud to any with the ability to sense it. She didn't slow for an instance in her head-long flight, dodging trees and branches with inhuman grace.

She was getting very close.

Harry was nearly at his wits end. He had drug Hagrid back with him into the Forest, where the trees provided handy cover. He could hear Moony snarling as he harried a death eater nearby, and Hagrid booming in his ear. He was on some sort of weird autopilot, wand spinning as he shot spell after spell, here attacking, here defending…

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. Harry's scar burst open, pain flooding through him like the water's of a great dam held back for far too long. It hurt worse than it ever had before, some terrible instinct keeping him upright and fighting even as his body shrieked with pain.

Voldemort was near. _Very_ near.

Like five feet away, near.

The thing about light is that it's paradoxical. You don't appreciate light when you have it because you've always had it. It's only in the brutal violence of loss that you understand exactly what it meant to have, and to lose it. The thing about darkness it that you only understand it's existence when the light is there. Without light, how do you know the darkness is there? And of course, without darkness, how do you know what the light is?

The truth is, you can't have one without the other.

And then Harry was staring, staring as somewhat startled red eyes took him in, staring straight down a smoothly polished and eerily familiar wand as it settled right before his heart. It was a moment out of time, out of thought. Harry could do nothing but stare.

And then, in a moment that seemed to define his existence thus far, as a green light raced for his life, Harry stared as something cut between him and the Dark Lord for one final time.

The spell impacted and the furry werewolf form of Remus Lupin hit the ground at Harry's feet, dead.

**A.N:** I am evil, I know. But it's all for a good cause. Sniffs Sorry for the delay, frankly I was lazy. Hope you enjoyed, we are very close to the end. Cue dramatic final battle scenes. Insert dramatic music! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry in the corner. I really like Remus. Why did he insist on dying?


	15. To Live or to Die

**Chapter Fifteen**- **To Live or to Die**

Harry had experienced them before. Moments that define you. They can give you terrible, wonderful power, drive you to incredible heights…and they can destroy you utterly.

As Harry stared down at the body of his once-teacher, he could for a long moment, feel absolutely nothing.

Here lay the body of the last true Marauder, the last living link to his parents.

Dead at his feet. Dead because of him.

And he wasn't the first. Too often had people got between him and the monster that even now stood but feet away. His father, first, and his mother. Cedric, so confused, so innocent. Sirius, falling forever in his memory, and Ammy lying so still on the ground. Issun disappeared in a whirl of light.

And now Moony lay with the stillness of death at his feet, golden eyes closed.

And then the emptiness inside shattered like fragile glass, and Harry looked up into crimson eyes, trembling as the great void inside filled and began to overflow.

Harry broke, truly shattered, everything that he was shifting and morphing under the great strain and changes he had faced.

Moony was the last one that would ever take his place with this monster. The last innocent that Harry would allow to die in order for him to live.

Rage joined with Hatred, so hot and fast it slipped between thoughts.

It only really worked because Voldemort hadn't expected it. The Dark Lord smirked, opening his mouth to utter something vile, and was completely caught off guard as Harry leapt for him with a silent, deadly resolve more terrifying than any screaming fit of rage.

In a moment of dark irony, Harry tore at the Dark Lord as savagely as if he were a werewolf himself, teeth bared in a wild snarl, so far gone he couldn't manage to speak.

Happily, he could use spells without actually uttering them, and as Voldemort blasted him back with crimson light, Harry defended. Rage had gifted him with a twisted sort of resolve, and his normal nervousness, his normal fear- were completely absent.

Sadly, so were any vestiges of common sense or survival instinct.

Harry really didn't care if he lived or died.

He just wanted Voldemort to be a harmless pile of dust blown away on the wind.

She heard the death-song whispered on the wind. She wanted to echo it, she wanted to let her cry mingle with it and help send the lost soul home. But now was not the time, and when her voice rang free it would be to let _all_ the lost souls fly free.

The moon had not yet set, and the sun had not yet risen.

Ron was having a really bad day. A really _really_ bad day.

Somehow this was all Malfoy's fault, he was sure of it. Heart in his throat, the Gryffindor raced as quietly as he could down the passageway that spilled into the Shrieking Shack, knowing that Harry, Hagrid and Moony needed help _now_.

And Ron, despite himself, was beginning to wonder where the Dark Lord was. Something just didn't seem right…

A blackish curse knocked Harry flying almost fifteen feet, before a swirl of defensive magic caught him and dropped him to the ground. He rolled automatically, putting himself further away from his previous position, firing spells as quickly as he could think them.

"My my, Harry. Such a change from the oh so noble hero act you've had going. The mutt's death hitting you a little hard, perhaps? If you take the werewolf's death hard, I wonder what you'll do when I start killing your friends."

Harry shot a _crucio_ at him, knowing full well that if it had of hit, it would have stuck.

Laughing, the Dark Lord shot another round of curses off almost lazily.

If Harry had of been capable of thinking, he would have known something was up.

In the castle, life was beginning to stir, the remaining teachers gathering together, setting the prefects as guards over the common rooms. They began to cast wards over the windows and doors, knowing full well that their main strength was elsewhere on a supposed raid, and that if this really was an attack by You-Know-Who, they could only hold out for a little while. The most powerful wards were tied to the Headmaster, who was also, suspiciously, absent.

The man- er, monster?- once known as Tom Marvelo Riddle was having a marvelous time. Seeing little Harry's face all twisted up with rage made him feel all warm inside.

But enough stalling. He had plans. Big plans. Diabolical plans in fact. And he couldn't afford to let his pint-sized nemesis distract him from his goal.

Harry saw something change within those crimson eyes, and some flicker of survival instinct, some flicker of awareness, had him propelling himself through the air to avoid the sudden barrage of spells heading his way. It was suddenly, horrifyingly all to clear that Riddle had been merely playing with him, and was now moving in for the kill.

Rage and Hatred faltered for a moment as Death moved for him, those inhuman red eyes so bright with dark joy that confused emerald were unable to look away.

_I'm going to die…_

All of those sacrifices had been for nothing. And just before the green light hit home, something within Harry changed, the Rage and Hatred fading away like mist beneath the sun. Humbled before the Knowledge, the Truth of what he had been given, brought tears to his eyes, shame brushing him briefly as he realized how badly he had failed.

He could not fight hatred with hatred. Voldemort would win every time, he had so much more experience, after all. And as the light came, Harry reached out with one trembling hand, as if in awe. He thought of his parents, and of everyone who had ever put themselves in danger for him. He thought of all those still in danger, something powerful stirring and welling up in his chest.

He thought of Ammy. And then he thought of nothing at all.

The one known as Voldemort stared down at the still- peaceful?- body of his young foe with something akin to curiosity. And then he turned on his heel and began to walk towards the dark silhouette of the castle.

She walked now, no longer running, her movements slow and measured. She passed the body of a werewolf, and bent briefly to trail her fingers along the curve of its muzzle. Then she continued on, stopping and staring down at the body of a young boy, her face by the moonlight, oddly expressionless. She looked back, briefly, towards the dead body of Remus Lupin, listening to the whispers of his fading spirit, alive with joy in the presence of all the he had lost. Then she looked down, and her eyes clouded as the young one's soul began to whisper to her, of the awakening of Rage and Hatred…and then the humble arrival of Sacrifice. The darkened strains of his soul-song lightened, strengthened, became clear and strong and sweet. Then the hard brilliance of her eyes softened, and she bent down on her knees, her fingers trailing down the still-warm skin of the young Chosen One, tracing out a lightning bolt scar, as clear as the day as it was made.

His task was yet undone.

For a moment more she stared into empty emerald eyes, and then she bent down, her hair a veil of light in the darkness, and brushed her lips softly over his, breathing into him.

The wind whispered a little louder, her hair lifting and flying, and beneath her hands and her lips a miracle occurred. Death released its hold, and the strong, defiant soul of Harry James Potter flared with the strength and the clarity that he had died with, light reborn within his eyes. He stared up into the face of the goddess bent above him in utter wonder, seeing the harsh, merciless heart of the sun for a moment before her unending love washed over him with all the strength of a promise fulfilled.

She smiled at him.

"You are loved, Harry James Potter, and you love in return. Know this truly, and no darkness can ever defeat you. The Sacrifice offered for you, and by you, marks you with Love. You have been offered a choice, and you have answered. When you call, I am yours."

Then she was gone, and the fresh screams told the dazzled boy that she had joined the fight. For a moment he lay still, staring blankly and wondering over the sound of her voice.

Like the sweetest of bells ringing in chorus, triumphing loudly before being carried away by the wind. Like being burned alive and simultaneously brought back to life.

Like life and death.

Voldemort smiled as he neared what he desired.

And Harry rolled over onto his knees and picked up his wand, coughing lightly to clear lungs that had, oh so briefly, stopped. Mind clear for the first time that night?day? he blinked and looked up.

And stopped just as suddenly.

For beneath his wondering eyes, a faint, flickering trail of silver could be seen, where the moon was lighting a path. It flickered again as the moon slipped behind a cloud, and then strengthened as it appeared again.

Harry managed to breathe again, through the weight of living and breathing and destiny.

The Silver Path.

And Harry knew what he would find at the end of it.

Voldemort.

Then Harry forgot to breathe again as he realized where it was leading. Straight back to Hogwarts.

For Draco Malfoy, the former Ice Prince, getting out of the Slytherin Common Room past the prefects was easy…thanks to Harry's knowledge of the secret passageways in Hogwarts. The Slytherins weren't stupid. They had a _very_ good idea of who was attacking outside.

Draco _knew_ his father was among them.

He had to do something.

Harry got to his feet, and began to follow the flickering, here- and- then- gone, path that the moonlight was making clear for his eyes. Finally remembering his Invisibility cloak, Harry wound his way past the fierce battle that was Ammy vs. the Death Eaters, which was an entirely one-sided affair.

Ammy was most definitely winning.

Focused as he was on his finicky path, Harry was vaguely aware of one masked figure's fight as he tried desperately to break the hold that the plants had on him. A sideways glance from the wolf-girl, however, had a vine flinging him into the air accompanied by shrieks like some sort of human yo-yo.

Harry could have sworn that the plants were shaking with silent laughter.

But he had a job to do, and so he kept on, frowning as the path twisted back and began to lead…to Hagrid's Hut?!

Nearby, the plants tired of their little game, and the groaning Death Eater was brought to earth with thunderous, spine-breaking force. He fell ominously silent, but was hidden from view by plants that were suddenly growing furiously as if ten springs were packed into one. When finally they fell still, waving innocently to the sky with the wind, there was no sign that the Death Eater had ever existed at all…except for what appeared to be a scrap of rotting white mask…

Harry gaped as he stared at the home of his old friend, wondering what on earth the odd path was doing leading him here. It was obviously a magical trace to something, visible only by moonlight, but what Harry couldn't figure out, was why someone had gone to all that effort and magical power- to lead to a groundskeeper's hut.

Then he wondered if that was entirely the point. No-one would suspect a thing. Vague page flipping through _Hogwarts, a history_, had told Harry that a groundskeeper's hut had always been located at the foot of the hill, a silent marker near the Forbidden Forest.

And how positively Slytherin was it, to place a highly secret entrance to something in a place so mundane? And as Salazar Slytherin's Heir, Voldemort would undoubtedly know of many secret things every one else was in the dark about.

Tightening his grip on his wand, Harry edged forward uneasily, staring into the darkened insides of his old friend's house.

Everything looked the same, until Harry took a cautious step forwards and fell into nothing.

Well, not nothing, but the floor had unfairly vanished, and Harry fell almost ten feet before he impacted with an unforgiving ground. Ironically, the exact spot that had once been held by Hagrid's beaten up, half-eaten, slobbered over welcome mat had hidden the tunnel. He could see and hear nothing, but full of the knowledge that Voldemort was ahead of him and quite possibly already in Hogwarts, drove Harry to his feet and cautiously stumbling ever downwards as he followed the narrow path.

He didn't dare risk a light.

Ron was about ready to cry. Or curse somebody. How could the inn not be open? How could everybody be so completely unaware of the happenings so near by? He began to pound on the door again, mentally counting down from ten.

If no-one answered by then, he was blasting the damn thing down.

Salazar Slytherin had been a paranoid and devious bastard alright. Harry both marveled and cursed this as he stumbled blindly down the passage. With the way he was going, Voldemort was going to just hear him coming and kill him again.

Harry blinked. Of course. Voldemort thought him dead.

This gave him a narrow window of opportunity. He certainly had the element of surprise, for once.

Harry was determined, this time, not to lose. And it was impossible to not remember Amaterasu's words to him. He would be glad to have her aid. And he owed her a debt.

And when the Fire called, he would answer gladly.

Meanwhile, Amaterasu was hard at work. She was enjoying herself immensely. So were the plants.

The Death Eater's were less happy. Various tattered, waterlogged and some visibly smoking figures lay scattered across the lawn of Hogwarts in various states of pain. The sun goddess merely flashed them a fanged grin as she danced lithely around a killing curse as she waited for her Brush to 'reload'. Despite the chaos she was wreaking, her ears were ever turned back, waiting and listening.

The Death Eaters, as we have already established, were not having a good time. It's hard to really grasp the fact that you are nothing more than fodder, a distraction, and that all those pretty promises of wealth and success and domination are empty and paid for in blood. The sun goddess showed them no mercy. She fiercely protected the sanctuary of the home of learning at her back, and none of them would pass if she could manage it.

Voldemort's minions, and sadly that's pretty much all they were, although some few possessed quick minds, were rather unprepared for their meeting with the seemingly immortal wolf-girl. Spells they could block. Curses they could counter.

But the magic she weaved rose from the earth itself, called to the elements, and what magic they threw in return was either diverted by the spontaneous growth of trees, splashed uselessly against her spinning, flaming shield, or was merely dodged.

Then her light-cursed bead whip shimmered away and was replaced by a familiar glaive that almost seemed to be humming in smug anticipation in time with the sparks it threw off.

Lightning flashed…

No, none of the Death Eater's had a chance.

Voldemort, however, was not quite so unprepared. But only time would tell if what he bore would be enough to hold her at bay.

Because paranoid and scarily intelligent as he was, Tom Riddle was still-mostly- human.

And he had long, long since stopped believing in gods.

Draco stared at the chaos on the grounds of Hogwarts with his mouth hanging open. For a long moment he simply stared out blankly at the destruction being wrought, the impossibly fast duels taking place. Then his eyes fixed on one figure, a figure whose robes were visibly smoking, gliding forward with wand upraised.

And he knew.

There was nothing to distinguish this one masked figure from the rest. They all wore exactly the same thing. But Draco saw the way this one Death Eater walked, and all doubt faded away.

"Father," he breathed, and then took a step forward, to do what, exactly, he couldn't have said. And crashed straight into a panting red-headed figure as they collided at the mouth of the apparently not-so-secret passage.

Harry had discovered a novel way of tracking Voldemort without rebounding constantly off of the walls. A point-me charm. Tugged insistently along by the spell, Harry began to listen, and listen hard, knowing that at any moment he could hear the sound of footfalls or the rasp of indrawn breathe.

Then he became aware of an odd sort of luminescence, like that found sometimes in caves, and his pace slows even as his wand begins to vibrate within his hand.

Waka was, of course, very fit. Irritating as the swordsman could be- and gods, he could be annoying- he was a warrior who fought, and fought often. But running non stop for several miles is tiring, no matter why you're running it. Panting, he concentrated on moving just a little bit faster, trying very hard to ignore the shrill demands of Issun next to his ear to 'hurry it up, already.'

Waka did not need to be reminded of what was at stake. The Prophet knew far better than the ponticle what might happen. His vision was overlapped, as the blurring countryside was obscured by flashes of images of what had been, what was, and what might be.

Fire danced before his eyes, shining and bright, flaring in the shape of a wolf, and a woman. And dark fire, wild fire, greedy and destructive, undulating like a snake.

One hand flew up to tangle around the single, shining fang slung around his throat, gripping it so tightly the sharp tip drew blood.

And then he was flying past an invisible barrier crafted of magic, and his free-hand flew down to his hip to pull free the battered, insignificant seeming portkey Dumbledore had pressed into his hand.

The world spun, whirling apart before rearranging…in utter chaos.

**A.N:** Um, sorry? Seriously, I had this ready before Christmas, but damn, I forgot how busy this time of year was. Is. Hope it was worth the wait though…I agonized over some of this, I really did. I have this nasty feeling I've forgotten something.

Oh, well. Harry and the rest of them will figure it out. One way or the other. Thanks for reading, see you all around for the conclusion.


	16. Last Man Standing

**Chapter Sixteen- Last man standing**

The moon waned, and the Silver Path flickered and vanished completely. Dawn approached inexorably, Time and Fate drawing dangerously parallel.

And Waka appeared once more on the grounds of Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And Issun, of course.

The Prophet stood still for a long moment, disorientated, before the world flashed back into sharp focus. His vision was now painfully overlapped as possible futures fought for dominance.

Pink was beginning to stain the horizon, but the first beams of true dawn had not yet arrived.

He ducked suddenly and span away, as a colored stream of light flared where he had been standing and instead flashed on to hit the ground- which hissed and appeared to be melting. Moment of disorientation over, the Tao Master already had a blade in hand as he spun into action, spotting a silver-white blur somewhere to his left as he engaged in the fierce little fight he had been dropped into. He began slowly cutting his way towards her, a sudden flare of fire and a high-pitched scream indicating that the now unusually silent Issun had also joined in.

As merciless as the goddess in his fighting, the cold eyed warrior fought on, through the pain of double vision and the taint of dark fire.

Prophecy could be thwarted, visions could be changed. The future that is not yet can be re-written, for those with the eyes to see.

He would do as he must.

Draco tried to remember how to breathe. It was ridiculous, really. How everything that had once seemed simple was now so…complicated. For where once there had only been his father's path, shining and simple, now Draco became aware of another…and another. Suddenly his Father was no longer the entirety of his world or future. Suddenly the power and darkness seemed so…little, when compared to the right to think for himself. To make friends with whoever he wished, not just those politically connected.

And now all of his choices were lining up behind him, shoving him forward, demanding him to choose _now_, right now, which path to follow.

And suddenly there was really only the one choice, the one path.

His Father, the comfort of the known, of the dark…or the terrifying possibilities of freedom.

How small a word for what it could contain.

A white mask was turned towards him now, and he could all but see the powerful, arrogant eyes and the demanding intellect behind them.

But now Draco saw another pair or eyes, and another, staring at him from across time and space.

Brown eyes, emerald eyes…and eyes of shifting fire. Sad and confused and teasing and angry and _free_.

He lifted his wand and struck.

Ron stared after Draco- who apparently hadn't even noticed him, even as he'd picked himself up off the ground- and then spun about again and slipped into the tunnel as it closed. He'd barely made it, as another group of Death Eater's had begun to attack Hogsmeade. But make it he had, surprising himself with his boldness and his certainty as he wove in and out, shouting warnings. And it had all paid off, he was back within Hogwarts, on the way to pass on everything he'd picked up to the teachers within. And hopefully, the Order of the Phoenix, who must surely be here by now.

Surely.

Pity they all can't run as fast as Waka.

Hermione was feeling misplaced. She had woken at the first signs of trouble, and dressed hurriedly in the dark. And then she was left to pace the Common Room, fretting and muttering to herself as she hugged herself and threw glances out the window.

She wasn't where she was supposed to be. It was that simple. She was supposed to be with Harry and Ron.

They were supposed to be together. That was how it was supposed to be. And instead of backing them up, instead of helping out her two dearest friends, she had been sleeping.

Logically, she knew it was stupid, but she felt like she'd let them down. As if somehow she should have known- as they had- that something was up. She'd dropped the ball, she'd _failed_.

And Hermione Granger _hated_ to fail. It was her one true weakness. So it was with empty eyes and shaking hands that she stared out the window, wondering what was going on, almost dreamily watching the almost beautiful exchange of spells down below.

And then, eyes still unfocused, the young witch walked over to the frozen portrait and magicked it open.

Harry's wand was shaking so hard his fingers were cramping as he fought to keep his grip upon it. His heart was hammering in his chest- quite irritatingly so. But his hands never faltered as they fought for control over his angry wand, and his feet never hesitated as they picked their careful way across the slippery floor. Water trickled down the walls, and dripped from the roof, an almost soothing soundtrack that broke the silence of the cavern that had not been trod for nearly a thousand years.

It also hid his footsteps, as he eased himself, almost flattened against the wall, towards the next, and, he felt, last corner. He _knew_ Riddle was close, could feel it in the silent snarling of his enraged wand, as it shot angry golden sparks and continued to shake as he walked- but his scar was oddly painless. For once, no angry headaches plagued him, no alien feelings bubbled in his chest, no dark whispers.

Nothing at all. There was nothing in Harry but Harry. Harry hesitated at the corner, barely breathing, pulling his Invisibility cloak a little tighter around himself.

This was…this was _it_. He could feel it, like something huge and powerful in the air around him, and he knew with a terrifying, wondrous certainty that nothing could stop what was to come. This was more than just the fulfillment of Prophecy- it was the turning point for this world, between one possible path and many. The Dark Lord was the centerpiece, the King in this battle, the horrible truth of all that the darkness offered.

The monster in the dark, the soulless beast, the evil of fairy-tales, warded off with wishes and prayers and fear. The Villain, the thief, the lost…

And Harry…oh, Harry…the battered child, worn but true, staring over the edge of adulthood and a world more beautiful and terrifying than anything he could ever have imagined. The Hero, the symbol, life against death, good against evil- if ever such battles can be so simple. Perhaps it was better described as a battle between love and hatred, between dominance and free will. Harry sure as hell wasn't going to suddenly have warm fluffy feelings for the murderer of his parents and so many other families- but he had at last understood something, something so simple and wonderful that even now it kept him going, breathing, defying- joyously and with love. It bubbled up from deep within, a warmth that had been mere embers stoked to a raging inferno.

He loved them- Ron, Hermione, Hogwarts, hell, even Draco- far, far more than he could ever hate the self-styled Voldemort.

And it was with this glowing certainty, this divine truth, that Harry took one last, deep breathe, and then stepped around the corner. To face whatever there was to face. To defeat what had to be defeated.

To live or to die.

Amaterasu halted mid-strike as she felt the shift like an invisible wind. Light was trembling on the horizon, dawn was only moments away. She leapt over the collapsing body of her opponent and broke into a ground eating lope, nose to the wind as she followed the bright scent of the youth she had ransomed from death. She dodged groaning figures, and silent bodies, and her feet fell unerringly on a path that can only be trod by moonlight. Peripherally, she was aware that the small figure of Draco was confronting an older male with a similar scent, tragically alone on the hilltop…if only for the moment. And then the earth swallowed her brightness whole, like the sun sinking below the waves, and the scent in her nose was strong, and mixed with the scent of serpents and old blood.

As she vanished, someone yelled her name, but all the passion and fury of that voice was not enough to travel through the great silence of the earth, and not even the goddess's fine-tuned hearing heard the call of her own name as anything more than a whisper of prayer.

And then- only then- with a rush of color and sound, did the Order of the Phoenix appear on the scene.

Which just really figures, doesn't it?

Waka actually snarled, fury overtaking him in a wave as the paths of prophecy trembled, and then surged towards a crossroads with such strength that he reeled, almost dropping his blade.

She hadn't heard him. Or, if she had, she was damn well ignoring him.

Bitterness flooded his throat like bile, and all he could think of was blood-soaked fur, closing eyes and fading whimpers as stone overtook flesh.

And he _was_ angry. A sudden, raging tempest of emotion that all stemmed from one place- he was too late.

Again.

He and Hermione shared a few things, it seemed.

But Waka knew the consequences of his failure; he had stood by and watched it before.

And he refused, with everything he was, to allow it to happen again.

It was as he'd said- as Harry had, by now, found out…resolve. The power of conviction was not to be scoffed at- and it can be used for great good and also for great evil.

Riddle might have been a complete and utter bastard…but there was no denying he had done great things. _Terrible, but great_.

Well, he was bloody well resolved, too. And prophecy could be a harsh mistress, as his vision, still occasionally slipping into double, attested. But it did have occasionally perks.

Most obvious being, of course, that he had glimpses into the future- but, and this was important- only possible futures.

But prophecy was converging into one final crossroads, the Hero and Villain facing each other for one final time. Oh, there would always be an evil to be fought, and a power to oppose it, but this darkness and this light- in this time and place- were at there final stop.

Waka could see how the future was shaping up- and he didn't like it.

So he was going to change it.

Just a little.

They stared at each other. Dirty crimson and glowing emerald. One more snake than human, a monstrosity made even more horrific for it was his own choices that had created himself. And the other, so young, with a lifetime still unlived. Perhaps to be ended this very morning, as the sun sought to rise. One dark, broken soul against the shifting, shining light that always accompanies that which is new and young, when tomorrow is forever and death is nothing more than a dream.

Both resolved.

"So." A part of Harry was surprised by his own boldness. But the rest of him was so tense with anticipation he had to concentrate on keeping his breath even.

Crimson eyes, wide with surprise, narrowed. The connection between them now was slight, shattered by magic and death and choice, but tendrils clung yet, not to be severed until one of them was dead- truly dead.

Harry had stepped into the cavern, where the very Foundations of Hogwarts hummed and shone with a terrible beauty and power. He had been horrified by the thought of what Voldemort could do with such incredible power- part of him still was- but there had been no time for anything else except this meeting. As if some terrible power bound them- which it did- their eyes had clashed and both had frozen.

Harry took another breath, breathing in the magic of the Foundations, and stepped forward. He had a slight edge here, he knew, for the wizard before him had indeed, killed him.

Yet here he stood, tall and proud, _alive_ and oh-so certain, as their wands twisted in their grips as if they were about to fly at each other.

"So? Is that all you have to say, little boy? And by what trickery do you stand before me, child, before your elder and better, what ally offered themselves up like a lamb to the slaughter for your foolish hope? Come now, Harry, how do you think this is going to end?"

He hid it well. Harry had to give him credit. But it was there- a flicker in his eyes, the tightening of his hand around his struggling wand…not fear, perhaps, not yet.

But doubt, certainly.

Somehow, Harry managed a smile, looking, really _looking_, at the man? Monster? before him.

"Little boy, Tom? Really? Is that all you think I am?" Harry was almost curious.

"After all, in a way, you created me…"

There was a brief debate in crimson eyes. To strike now? To kill him-again? But curiosity- no, _Truth_- is a powerful motivator, and in the end, the soul that had once been Tom Marvelo Riddle _had_ to know. Had to know why this green-eyed boy, so ordinary, really, had managed the impossible, something he had strived to do and failed for so long.

Conquer Death.  
It was galling, really, this fresh faced brat managing what he had not…but enemy or not, he had the answer, the answer to the question that had driven him all his life.

For surely, the power to defy death is the ultimate power. His eyes were hungry as the examined the seemingly unremarkable youth. Unremarkable, that is, except for the fact that he had most definitely been dead not long before…

"Created _you_? I have created wondrous things, Boy, things you cannot imagine. I have more power than you can possibly dream of, you, living on _luck_ and _hope_."

The promise of death and the allusion of inferiority were delivered perfectly, and to Harry it was clear where Snape had learnt how to truly wound with words.

Harry stepped forward a little, and to the side, wand lifting ever-so-slightly.

"Luck? Is that the best _you_ can offer me? That I stand now before you, after so many battles…on luck alone?"

He could taste the beat of his heart on his tongue. Power was beginning to build in the air, in this place of beginnings, this foundation.

"_Luck_. And the actions and sacrifices of powerful but foolish witches and wizards too corrupted by their belief in love to ever understand-"

Harry began to laugh. It built itself slowly in his gut, gaining strength as it traveled up and slid free of his throat. He managed to cough, and swallowed the laughter down again as red eyes stared incredulously across at him. He knew it was only a twisted sort of curiosity that held Voldemort back, now, that only his desperate need for the answer to that burning question held that terrible power back.

Behind them both- _around them both_- the Foundations hummed and whispered serenely, twisting and turning, magic flitting about as it had, uninterrupted, since the time the Founders had laid it in place. Each succeeding generation had only strengthened them.

"It's true that I've been lucky, Tom. I've had the help of people I'll never be able to properly thank. People have given me everything in the hope- with _faith_- that I can destroy you. That is another difference between you and I. You are alone, and I am never by myself, even if the people I love are not physically beside me."

It was Voldemort's time to laugh, now. It was high and nasty, but with a dark, choking undertone, bitter like betrayal.

"Love? You've been hanging around Dumbledore too long, Harry Potter. Love cannot save you. Love is an illusion, a grand lie invented by fools inventing reasons for why we are all here. _There is only power_."

Harry shook his head slowly, as Voldemort took a few quick steps towards him, eyes hungry.

"Power…and what power saved you tonight, child, for I know I left you for dead? What secret have you found, what artifact? Was it your new little friend, perhaps? The white mutt, maybe…"

Harry shook his head again, forcing himself to look into those burning eyes.

"You haven't heard anything I've said, have you? It's power that is the illusion. Power that is the lie. In the end, power always fails."

The Dark Lord was disbelief itself. He seemed to be struggling for something to say.

"Foolish child. You could have had the world, but instead you have thrown away everything for the words of a candy obsessed old man. No, I know the Truth, Potter, and that is that you did _not_ save yourself, tonight. Someone else did."

Harry truly wondered how long he could continue to hold onto his seemingly homicidal wand.

"I _did_ save myself. In every way that matters…and I was given a second chance, a chance to face you on equal terms."

Behind him, there was an invisible but clear _shift_. Light seemed to overtake his senses. A smile curved his lips, danced in his eyes.

"Only one of us is going to survive this night, Riddle," he observed.

"It's too late now for anything else. It's you or me. Last man standing."

**A.N:** Gah. I mean, I thought there would be the big fight, ya know? But nooo, everybody wanted to talk. I mean, even Hermione jumped on the bandwagon, and she's been pretty quiet. And Waka's making me nervous. He's up to something, and he hasn't told me what it is yet. Ah, well. As they say, all the pieces are in play. Next chapter should be interesting. Meanwhile, it's nice to have access to a computer again. Oh, and you all should have caught the line "terrible, but great"- either a direct quote or paraphrasing from book one.


	17. Foundations

**Chapter Seventeen- Foundations**

He could feel her, like the sun on his back. Riddle's eyes widened even further as he stared at something over his shoulder. Tension eased itself slightly in the young wizard's back as he turned his head slightly to the side.

"You came."

He sensed her smile. But his attention was pulled to the dark wizard again as he moved once more, attention fixed with a terrible hunger on the girl standing just behind him.

Unnoticed, the Foundations soft luminance began to increase as her own light reached out and touched them.

"So here it is then, boy. The power that saved you. And you have brought her to me."

Amaterasu stared at him much as Harry had, and in eerie déjà vu, slowly shook her head. Her eyes were almost curious as for the first time she took in the soul of the man before her. Pity stirred within her briefly, but was lost within her own resolve. His stare was possessive, and he lifted his shaking wand with impressive speed.

A fang peeled back from her lip as she snarled at him, and he actually faltered for a moment before he unleashed a spell.

Harry had been expecting it, and Amaterasu was no fool. They moved fluidly apart, Harry countering the Dark Lord almost without thought, seeking to insert himself between the wolf-girl and him.

They attacked as one, but while Harry attacked the Dark Lord and vice versa, Amaterasu was striking at his magic- sowing seeds of light amongst that deep darkness.

Spells flew back and forth like a demented game of tennis.

Back and forth…while all unnoticed, the light of the Foundations began to increase, so slowly it passed undetected, as two possible futures fought for dominance.

The battle wasn't about the spells, although a nasty bone-breaker followed by a blood drainer curse had Harry dodging frantically, sending back a volley of spells that sent Voldemort in turn spinning away…

Amaterasu was a white shadow to the duel, weaving almost effortlessly around the spells, her eyes fixed on the prize both combatants seemed to have forgotten.

The Foundations.

Do you remember the Mirror of Erised? Do you know of the enchanted books that compel you to read on, such is the power and truth of their words?

_I show not your face but your heart's desire._

Only an eleven year old could feel at all comfortable with allowing an artifact capable of reading their minds to choose their House.

Everything always starts off so simply. What drives someone to choose evil? Why do such powerful and sometimes terrible things exist?

A child may look into a magic mirror and see their family, or see naïve images of glory.

What does an adult, tempered by experience see when a mirror is held to their heart?

How easily someone could be driven mad by the unattainable, or simply from the knowledge of who they really are. Only the innocence of a child could gaze upon their soul and see hope.

And only those seeking life can create it, or sustain it. And because Tom never learned this, he would never be immortal. You can borrow time, if only for a little while, but you cannot steal it. You cannot steal death, for it is not something you can ever have. And power is indeed a fickle thing.

Live for the living- otherwise you are constantly in the shadow of death, always looking back instead of forwards.

Everything can be reduced back to its foundation.

Sometimes it's better not to.

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The sun gives life. It gives light. You could call it the ultimate foundation- or perhaps, it is better to say _one _of the ultimate foundations.

Hogwarts' Foundations were linked to the four bright souls of its original creators, and every life ever harbored within its walls gave back a little of their life- not in terms of powers, but in terms of dreams.

Hogwarts was a place where thousands of wizards and witches had grown up, from wide-eyed child to experienced adult. And because growing up is never easy, there was a little darkness mixed in with that light. And because this also happens to be a magical school, that makes things more than a little interesting.

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Somewhere above the place where prophecy dueled, a son faced his father in mortal combat, a young witch and a young wizard joined forces and fought back to back, and the Order of the Phoenix mopped up the last of the Death Eaters. And somewhere, a prophet was making his way to where he needed to be.

"Ron! Duck!" Ron Weasley threw himself to the ground as a ominous green spell impacted harmlessly with the ground.

"Thanks, Hermione," he puffed as he regained his feet.

"I think…I think it's nearly over." She tightened her grip on her wand.

"About time- but I don't know where Harry's gone." Hermione swallowed heavily.

"That's not what I'm worried about, Ron. I'm more worried about where Vol-Vol- oh dash it, _Voldemort_, has gotten to."

Horrified comprehension began to dawn on both their faces.

"You don't suppose-"

"Father!" They both spun at the anguished cry, wands up and pointing at- a death eater? And was that Malfoy?

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Time's a funny thing. It always seems to be moving faster when you're happy and slower when you're sad. Wizards and witches have been trying to figure out if time really does shift, or whether it really is a matter of perception.

Here's a little secret- it's both, for when you get right down to the bedrock- the _foundation_, you could say- life is all a matter of perception.

Thus it was that at the same time that Draco Malfoy, tears in his eyes, dodged a killing curse from his father at the same time as Tom Marvello Riddle sprang his final trap.

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Voldemort had not forgotten Amaterasu, although his main focus was on his troublesome little opponent.

Although he had no understanding of her true nature- _kill everyone and you are a god_- he nonetheless had planned something for her eventual arrival that would bind her up tightly

-_likefleshturnedstone_-

and leave her a helpless conduit of power to feed off rather like a vampire regenerates with blood. He was rather good at subjugation. He'd had years of practice, after all.

The Dark Mark was a thing of beauty in that regard.

And so after blocking a cutting curse from the annoying undying brat of light, the Dark Lord spun on his heel and flung something at the watching wolf-girl with stunning precision.

She blocked it, of course, seeming almost surprised, as the darkly glowing object covered with runes bounced off her shield almost comically before landing at her feet.

She blinked.

Then dark streamers, dark as midnight, rushed out of the stone like the chill wind of evening and wrapped around the startled goddess like some sort of evil octopus. She tried to block them, but the dark power slid around her power without touching it, winding around her throat and her waist before she could even flare her power.

She managed a short, startled yip before the power born of sacrificial death tightened it's grip and began to _squeeze_.

Harry stared in horror as the dark power surrounded the shape-shifting goddess, and tried to dispel it. But no magic born of betrayal can be shattered so easily, and he was forced to watch as it tightened around her like some sort of giant fist and began to close in like it wanted to crush the life out of her.

He had a brief, crazy thought.

_What happens when the sun goes out?_

Her light seemed to dim, her eyes slipped closed as if she was sleeping, the dark power sliding through her bright hair, thick like oil and heavy like an unwanted caress.

Her struggles weakened.

Harry tried another spell with deepening horror, and across from him Voldemort threw back his head and laughed with utter triumph.

The Foundations _flickered_.

And then something very unexpected happened.

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Waka had been called a lot of things. Issun as well, for that matter.

Raving lunatic were among the nicer terms. And though they would forever bicker and insult one another, they never doubted where the other stood.

This is a rare gift.

So obvious differences aside, the Prophet and the ponicle were of one mind when they crashed a very important prophetic battle.

One really angry mind.

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What is immortal? Time? Space? Death? Do not even worlds eventually wither? Do not even the stars burn out?

Here's another secret. A withered plant can re-flower. A barren world, with time and love, can be made fertile again. And dead or dying fires can be relit. Sometimes all you need is a little faith.

Other times you need rather a lot of it.

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The darkness's grip was cruel, and she was far from the world she had long claimed as her own, guarding and watching over. But she was not alone, and no power, no matter how dark, could truly destroy her. She was moments away from being forced into a soul-deep slumber that would take eons to break, but her face was calm despite the pain.

Even goddesses have faith in something.

Voldemort's laugh left little doubt that he thought he had won. Harry wanted so badly to wipe that smirk off of his face that his arms shook- but more than anything he wanted to free the goddess that had become his friend.

The foundations brightened a little. Power _shifted_.

He opened his mouth-

"Let her go."

It wasn't Harry who spoke.

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"Let him go."

Hermione was barely aware of speaking, as she made her way to stand by a boy- almost a man- that she had long beheld as an enemy. Ron followed more cautiously.

Draco barely spared them a glance.

"Stay out of this. He's my father."

"And we're your friends." Surprisingly, it was Ron who spoke now. Draco started in surprise, head turning to the side so he could watch his father as well as his, uh, companions.

"You…You don't understand."

"No," Ron said frankly.

"I hope I never do. But you don't have to do this alone, Draco. And you don't have to burden yourself by killing him. Let him go to Azkaban, where he belongs."

"He's my _Father_."

"And you're his son. Didn't stop him flinging a killing curse at you," the red-head retorted.

And perhaps because it _was_ Ron, someone with little to no reason to like him or lie to him, Draco hesitated.

He finally had his father disarmed, finally had him helpless, for the first time in his life, Draco was staring down at his father, kneeling in the dirt, and seeing exactly what he was.

This man, this sometimes monster, who he had loved and feared and hated for so long…surely he had to end it? The son succeeding the father…

"He's not worth it," Hermione ventured softly.

Draco laughed bitterly. It would be so _easy_. Poof, problem gone.

"What do you know about it? What right do you have to interfere! You know nothing!"

Ron and Hermione swapped looks, sifting uneasily.

"Maybe. But you don't want to do this, Draco. You don't need to. You've won." Ron's voice was uncharacteristically sure, and Draco's wand hand wavered for a moment. Hermione stepped forward and cautiously placed her hand on the Slytherin's shoulder.

"Ron's right, you know. You've won. But if you do the easy thing, if you kill him, then _he's_ won. For the rest of your life."

"Put the wand down. It's over."

Fate wavered for a long moment, then slowly Draco crumpled to his knees, and Ron and Hermione Stunned his father and fell awkwardly beside him, trying to comfort him even as they stared out over the field of the dead and the dying. Long fingers of light had begun to slip forward over the Forest as the last of the Death Eater's were rounded up.

But there were a few suspicious absences.

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"Let her go." It was a soft exhalation, but no maniacal laugh, no enraged snarl, no furious threat, had ever raised the hair on the back of Harry's neck as the Prophet's soft pronunciation.

It had 'or else' practically inhabiting the same space. It wasn't quite a threat, but the sudden intrusion shivered through the air and caught the attention of the two combatants.

Harry turned his head towards Waka in sudden hope, and his breath caught in his throat as he took in the Tao Master's presence.

Funny, how someone you have spent months around could be so changed.

Gone was the perpetually lazy smile and half-closed eyes. Harry was seeing the Waka that he had glimpsed only briefly before.

All pretences of humanity were dropped. Too-bright hair shifted in the wind- _except there was no wind here beneath the earth_- the light of the Foundations shimmering with incandescent beauty over the bared steel of his sword.

And his eyes. Darker, like midnight, a void where power shifted, something wonderful and terrible. And yet, for all that angry power, it was not Rage that dominated those depths.

You know how they say the greatest light casts the greatest shadow? People bickered about the Moon Kingdom, some arguing that its people were petty and cruel and destroyed themselves…others say they were too gentle and kind and were wiped out.

Nobody ever figured out that they were in fact, both. Gentle and kind but also in turn petty and cruel.

Except for a certain white wolf, and she certainly wasn't saying anything.

What you choose to do with power all comes down to _choice_.

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Waka was decidedly Not Happy. He was even more Not Happy than when he had found out that his people, his friends, had betrayed the Celestials- and _her_- with the trap that was the Ark.

They'd also betrayed him, of course, and he never forgot that, but the far worse crime was in his innocent betrayal and how all of their actions had brought about such needless slaughter. It wasn't easy for the Warrior to turn his back on everyone he had known and loved, to give up the beauty of his homeland, but by their actions, they had tainted it, tainted his memories. And so he had gladly left to forge a new existence without them, although sometimes he would wake in the dead of night, a wordless longing lodged in his throat. He would sit and stare up at the stars and _hate_ them, people he had beheld as family, actually hate them for his exile and his loss and the death he had seen and endured for so many years. The only comfort was the memory of fiery eyes that forgave endlessly and betrayed nothing, and the hope of her return sustained him all throughout those lonely years. He had wrapped one pale hand around the fang of her necklace until it drew blood, and he held onto his promise- and hers.

_Because she had trusted him_. Despite everything. And so he would trust her. Even though her plans sometimes deserved a sideways glance, because her faith sometimes, burned, because it was so much easier to fall when you were not divine…

But he had chosen his path. It was his _choice_.

And now someone had threatened his new life and the absolute focus of it, and Waka wasn't going to hold anything back, prophecy be damned.

"I said let her _go_."

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Has anyone pointed out to you that prophecies are weird, twisted, sometimes downright evil things? Because prophecy lies, you see, in the worst way a lie can be told- _by only giving you part of the truth_. For example, had Voldemort actually been aware that _not_ attacking baby Harry could have saved him a lot of trouble, things would be a great deal different. But Voldemort had listened to Fear and Dumbledore had listened to Hope, and the prophecy had become self-fulfilling.

See, prophecy can be more like…guidelines. Possibilities.

With teeth. Big ones.

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Tom Riddle stopped mid-laughter, staring at the interloper who had dared to interrupt his triumph. He lifted his wand, _Avada Kedavra_ almost twisting on his tongue, but his need for more knowledge- power- stayed his hand.

For a moment.

"Who the hell are you? And why by darkness would I go and do something like that?"

"Because if you do not, I will ensure that _nothing_ of you remains."

**A.N:** Well, been a while! Ah, real life…how I loathe thee. Although, my sister's wedding was absolutely beautiful, and nobody tripped on the aisle and we all looked beautiful and I want to cry just thinking about how perfect everything was. _Blinks suddenly_. Where was I again? Oh, yeah, why I've been 'away'…well, I had to move back to uni, which was oh-so-much fun, and start classes again, and do actual work. Sigh. And this chapter was a little weird. It always surprises me where it decides to veer off. I mean, I kept having to smack Snape down 'cause he wanted to say something and I didn't want him to, Waka took firm control and appears to be plotting homicide, Harry is being deceptive, and Ammy is frankly smug. And Tom is still alive. He's tricky like that, yes he is. But I hope I can have him properly massacred next chapter. Wow, watch me babble. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Oh- and watch for a few quotes or paraphrases, such as the mirror of Erised. I own them not! Anything Harry Potter related belongs to someone a hell of a lot richer than me.


	18. Mortal and Divine

**Chapter Eighteen- Mortal and Divine**

Voldemort sneered at the little pest, and almost lazily shot the killing curse at him. Only to stare in surprise as a blade impossibly deflected the curse, sending it flying into the brightness of the Foundations. Which churned briefly and rather violently before going rather still. But everyone's focus was elsewhere and they didn't notice.

Well, Amaterasu did, but she was rather busy at the time.

Waka tilted his head to the side and surveyed Voldemort with an expressionless face.

"Tom Marvello Riddle, only child of the last heir of Slytherin and a muggle. Half-blood, murderer, and possessor of a fractured soul."

Voldemort's pale skin mottled an ugly red as rage flushed his face and neck. He opened his mouth to say something, possibly a curse and most certainly nothing nice, but Waka was not quite finished.

"You will not survive this day."

The prophet's voice was final and full of certainty, and Harry's heart filled as it all but sang agreement. The two shared a look that conveyed all the resolve they were currently feeling.

Then Issun piped up, ruining the moment as usual.

"Yeah, what he said!"

Waka sighed, but did not lower his blade.

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It seemed they had thrown Voldemort for a loop. He was the _Dark Lord_, by Merlin, the worst to ever plague the world in recorded history!

And he was being dissed by a mouthy miniature pixie. And a man wearing pink. Not to mention his long history of being defied by a _child_.

It simply wasn't to be borne. Regaining his composure, Voldemort sneered at them, a touch of malicious humor twisting his face into something truly ugly.

"How cute, Harry, your cheerleading squad has arrived. Is this truly the best Dumbledore can do?"

Considering that Dumbledore wasn't even there, and Harry was pretty sure had no idea where they were, he rather thought that was a little unfair.

"Dumbledore isn't your problem right now," he all but growled, wand still pointed in a decidedly threatening manner at the self titled dark lord. He stepped sideways, trying to get closer to Ammy without being completely obvious.

He failed miserably.

_Ssss…_The sibilant hiss caught his immediate attention and Harry paled, nearly getting whiplash as his head snapped around and began searching the room for Nagini, as he most certainly should have done earlier.

"_Master?"_

Waka raised his brows. Seeing a snake in his visions was one thing, seeing it in reality another. For one thing-

"That's the biggest snake I've ever seen," Issun hissed into his ear.

Yes, it was rather big. Had noting on a certain eight-headed dragon-snake, though, or the jack-in-the-box of doom that was Yami.

Still, quite large.

"_Yes, my faithful one. Destroy the intruders."_

Waka didn't understand snakes, but he interpreted body language and Harry's expression quite well. Besides, Tom could gloat even in hisses.

"I _don't_ think so."

It was fairly easy to track the great serpent now that it had abandoned the shadows of the passageways, for the Foundations lit up the room, allowing for no darkness or shadow in which to hide in.

The snake tested the air with its tongue, blunt-nosed head swinging round towards Harry as if drawn by a magnet.

"_Speaker…betrayer…"_ Quite frankly if there was any betrayal going on here, it was Nagini's, Harry thought, not his own.

"_No, he-dark-speaker is the betrayer. He chose death over life…"_ He tried to sway the snake, knowing it was useless. His wand wavered to a point exactly half-way between the snake and the Dark Lord, agonizing over who would strike first.

"I've got it, Harry," Waka said suddenly, and made the decision for him, launching himself at the serpent with Issun in tow.

A burst of flames courtesy of the artist blocked the snake's intial vicious lunge towards Harry, and then the snake was using its long muscular form to whip around the strikes from Waka's blade, making everything far more difficult by spitting tiny but deadly spears of poison that when the swordsman dodged, actually began to eat into the stone floor.

Well, any creature Voldemort kept around _had_ to be deadly. He couldn't exactly have a fluffy little 'Puff for a familiar, could he? Not very in keeping with the big bad Dark Lord image. Although perhaps having something to hug would have altered his disposition in those early years…perhaps not.

Harry wasted no time in sprinting between the bound and eerily still form of Amaterasu and Tom, flinging some decidedly vicious curses at him to show just how unhappy he was with this latest turn of events. His side stung where a cutting curse had clipped him, and he was quite tired, but his wand never hesitated as it shot spell after spell at his most hated enemy.

Voldemort shielded and dodged and sent back a barrage of spells of his own, but Harry raged inside, for they were both surged between defense and offence, and neither got him any closer to freeing the wolf-girl behind him.

Then there was a shrieking hiss behind him, an inhuman scream of dark magic, and both combatant's attention swung to the left, only to stare in shock…

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The snake was proving to be a more difficult challenge than Waka had anticipated. That poison it kept spitting for example, was down right distracting. At least Issun could distract it in return, blocking the worst with sudden surges of wind or flame. One rather perfectly aimed gust of wind actually blew the poison right back into the serpent's face. It didn't cause any damage, but the way the snake had swung its head around had been rather comical.

And then Waka surged forward, twisting away from venomous fangs to slam home his blade through the serpent's neck, grunting with effort as he twisted the blade and drove the creature to the ground, pinning it.

The blade vibrated violently as the serpent thrashed furiously, spitting out a barrage of poison and no doubt rather creative threats, and Waka lunged back from its thrashing tail. For a moment artist and swordsman merely stared at the impaled beast, and Issun was preparing to hit the serpent head on with his most powerful fire-ball yet when the furious cries of the wounded beast rose to a wild keening, and they stared in shock as the light of the Foundations began to move.

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With ever-increasing speed the light and patterns of the Foundations had been stirring as the battles had commenced, playing through the great Pillars and running off through the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. Beautiful, but unnoticed in the rather important fights below.

The Foundations had not yet been invoked. And then all at once Nagini had been pinned to the floor, the tip of Waka's blade exiting her neck and right into the floor.

And inadvertently into the Foundations.

Light surged, racing up and down the steel of the blade, throwing off sparks at the pommel as power surged through the conduit like water bursting through a leak. And as the blade ran right through the serpent, through muscle and blood, so to did the energy.

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People think of foundations as life-giving, because they are the basis for what comes after, a beginning. But people forget that what is begun in light does not necessarily end in it, that foundations are not just what is begun but also what endures.

This is why Voldemort had thought to tap into the incredible power and potential of the Hogwart's Foundations, the power that controlled the wards and all the many and varied mysteries of the great castle, compiled upon generation after generation.

Perhaps he would have succeeded, but only in drawing upon the dredges of that power, by turning the protections inward instead of outward. For no matter that darkness had found root within those walls, so to had the light, and of that loving, protective power Voldemort truly had no knowledge, no respect.

He held the light in contempt because it accepted, because it used love like some sort of _excuse_ for all the terrible things that happened in life, like it made up for it…He worshipped the darkness because with it he could bend all those ridiculous rules, live life like he believed it should truly be lived…

And so he had fallen because of the desperate, soul-deep love of a mother for her child, who despite death had loved her child more than her own life.

He should have known better, but then he had never known love.

Because love is not something to be measured and controlled like his own dark magic, love was not something stable and set…love defied all the rules he thought dark magic shattered.

He underestimated it because love is only ever what it needs to be.

Enough to banish a dark lord, even when the object of that emotion is so tiny and fragile and new…

Enough to face unbeatable odds with a smile and hope; hope, one of the most powerful emotions…

Enough to tap into the power of life and beginnings, of that which is neither light nor dark but never evil.

Just enough.

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When the end came, it came with shocking suddenness, like the strike of some enormous creature far more deadly than Nagini, like the waking of some power that had been half-sleeping…

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Light drew itself in impossibly complicated runes up and down the still-writhing body of Nagini, leaping off the pommel of the quivering sword to fall to the floor like tiny fireflies, tiny bolts of light surging up from the physical and spiritual 'gap' in the Foundations to tumble around the room like excited children.

Before the watcher's could do more than gape, the body of the snake seemed to disappear, to dissolve, to fade back into that magic like all mortal things to the earth. Black magic raged, but still the light grew…

The brilliant light faded, the 'gap' sealed over, leaving behind a still-quivering sword and the wisps of light, drifting around in a seemingly harmless way that none the less tightened their throats.

This was unknown.

Voldemort stared around with deep greed tainted by fear.

Issun went cross-eyed trying to track them all at once.

Waka _smiled_.

And Harry raised his wand, overflowing with certainty and love and hope-

"_Finite Incantatum!"_

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Very good choice of words. Harry demanded all incantations, all worded spells to end.

If he had decided to try a magic-void, to end all magic around him, well…the Foundations would not have reacted well.

But Harry wanted only for his friend to be free, wanted only for _all_ of his friends to be free. He wanted the threat of Voldemort gone. And he wanted this with every beat of his heart, every fibre of his being.

Up through his feet, coursing through the air, power sang and whispered, but Harry heard none if its siren call, lost in his own resolve.

The flecks of light spun and sparkled like stars, power that had existed and grown since the four founders.

There was a rumble like the deep shaking of the earth, something more felt than heard, and what was heard deafened.

Behind him, Harry felt a sudden surge of light and heat and power…

_How long had he dreamt of that light?_

He turned his head, almost afraid to look, but certain of what he would find.

The goddess watched him with endless eyes, eyes that shifted and blazed like the Foundations he stood within, and something within him understood for the first time exactly what she was.

Divine.

Her lips curled slowly, not into the wide mischievous grin he had seen before, but the soft, slow smile he had beheld on his rebirth that said that no matter how deep the darkness there is always a light.

The star-like magnificence of the Foundations whirled around her as if paying homage, draw by her superior light, basking in it and wriggling like puppies.

She glowed as he had never seen her before, the glimpse he had beheld once of her true nature when she had defeated Greyback brought to impossible light.

_Are you ready?_

He was beyond ready. This was his moment and he knew it, exulted in it. For all that he had lived and loved, no price, not even his own life, was too high to pay.

She _laughed_, and the Foundations rang with the sound. The Fire called, and he answered without hesitation.

Voldemort was old, and Voldemort was powerful, and terrible…and he was nothing, absolutely nothing, before them.

The Foundations, drawn to her light and his purpose, glowed with terrible, serene power, surging through the conduits and reading their hearts, their true wills…

Can you see how terrible Voldemort might have been?

But all he offered them was fear, his fear of the unknown, his fear of death, his hatred of existence for he never truly learned to live…

Harry offered hope, tenacious, terrible hope, hope that endures, and love. Love for his friends whose fates he did not know, love for his home, somewhere above them, and love for the goddess at his back and for the life he had only begun to live…

And Okami Amaterasu? Who knows what the magic read within her soul, it is not for those mortal to know.

When the end came, it came swiftly, as Tom Marvello Riddle, every last, shattered remnant of him, was enveloped by the only place he had ever dared to image as home, becoming part of the magic forever. Ironically, some tiny piece of him was immortal, then, living on in the magic and becoming part of its power, but with no control, no will, of his own. Be careful what you wish for, perhaps.

**A.N:** Yes! Finally he died! It only took, like, how many chapters? But he's dead at last!

And Ammy didn't die! Kudos to Waka for averting the original timeline, have fun trying to figure out what would have happened without his presence…Well, that's the dramatic stuff wrapped up, folks. You get another chapter, then I'd say that's that. Might be a little while, though. I should do, like, some actual uni work now. But I hope you all enjoyed! Rejoice, for the snake is dead! Er, both of them…And did anybody else think that Yami was totally a jack-in-the-box of evil? And I tried out some paragraph line thingies! Let me know if you think they worked, I'll go back and put them in everywhere… eventually…


	19. Where the heart is

**Chapter Nineteen- Where the heart is**

Harry stared in utter disbelief, unable for a moment to accept the truth- it was over. Voldemort was gone. It was…it was...oh, not over, he realized with a fierce, overwhelming joy, it was only just beginning. He laughed in delight with tears in his eyes, hardly daring to belief.

The light of the Foundations flared brilliantly, one final time, then died down to their normal, serene hum. He spun around.

"Ammy, Ammy, did you-"

He stopped, staring, for where the wolf-girl had been there was now in her place a shining white wolf with benevolent eyes gazing up at him, tail waving happily.

So that had been what that last surge of power had been.

"Oh, oh Ammy, is that? Are you…it's all over then." His voice saddened, for he had become quite attached to her, and now she had changed again…

He swore she was laughing at him.

He began to feel a little stupid.

"I suppose you're right. You're still here and you're still you." Then he threw dignity to the winds and threw his arms around her neck, laughing wildly.

Waka wandered over, skirting his lightly glowing blade, small smile in place.

"A much better ending," he breathed, letting his hand rest on shining fur for a moment.

Flaring eyes rolled up at him, and his smile widened.

"Yes, much better."

Harry frowned slightly.

"Waka, what do you mean? Did you…did you _see_ something?"

The swordsman didn't answer for a moment, stroking the wolf's head while Issun leapt to her fur to do a victory dance. Then he turned his head to regard him and the breath lodged in Harry's throat as the swordsman's eyes met his then turned away.

"You really don't want to know. Let's just enjoy this happy ending, shall we?"

The wolf surged forward to lick their faces quite thoroughly, despite their protests.

"I'm _so_ glad you agree."

Draco was beginning to show signs of real life again. His first thought was sheer relief that he was still alive.

The second was a sort of horrified disbelief that he in part owed that fact to…a Weasley…something Malfoy-ish in his soul shuddered. But all in all, Draco was just happy to be alive. He looked at his stunned and bound father for a moment before getting to his feet and deliberately turning his back.

"It's over, then," he offered.

"So let's get back to the castle- I know the way to the kitchens now…"

Hermione tugged gently on his sleeve, frowning.

"Wait…what about Harry?"

Draco blinked.

"What do you me- of course. He's around here too, isn't he? Brilliant, trouble really does have his forwarding address…Let me guess, we find the Dark Lord and we find the Boy Wonder." There was no malice in the teen's voice, only a sort of deep amusement and a weary fatalism.

Ron and Hermione shared glances.

"I think he's beginning to get it, Hermione."

"I knew he would sooner or later, Ron," the witch joked a little nervously as she eyed the Order of the Phoenix as they milled about taking wands on the battlefield.

"Um, who wants to be the one to, uh, tell Dumbledore and the rest?" Draco snorted at the redhead.

"I vote for Granger."

The witch shot him a deep glare.

The debate was broken up, however, as Kingsley came by Lucius Malfoy's unconscious form, giving a double-take as he saw the three mussed but thankfully mostly unwounded trio.

"Merlin, where did you three come from? Don't you know how dangerous it is out here?"

In a moment of absolute understanding the three teens exchanged rueful glances.

"No."

"Never would have guessed."

"You don't say."

The auror blinked at their flat remarks. He opened his mouth again, but Ron bet him to the draw.

"Took you guys long enough. Have you found Harry yet?"

The tall, dark man paled, fingers clenching around his wand.

"What do you mean have we found him? Harry's up in the school, probably still asleep…"

Hermione and Ron couldn't help it, they burst into laughter.

Before the auror could say anything else, though, all movement on the bloody hillside ground to a sudden halt as if everyone was stunned, and the ground seemed to shift beneath their feet.

Then, as the sun continued to glance rays across the now-still battlefield, there was a massive impact to the air, a powerful roar that swept up out of nowhere with a triumphant cry- and then there was nothing.

As the echoes of the cry died away, the watchers stared in awe as Hogwarts glowed a deep, blinding _white_ for an instant before it too died away and all was as normal.

"Whoa…"

Hermione clutched Ron's hand tightly.

"You don't think…Harry?"

"He does have the worst luck."

--

In the end, getting out of the super-secret cavern was more than a little difficult. In the end they simply tried to retrace their steps, which was easier said than done. Harry had relied upon his wand's connection to Voldemort to draw him to the cavern. Waka had relied upon his connection with Amaterasu to find his way. And now with his wand lit by a powerful _lumos_ spell, Harry stood gaping at the absolute maze of tunnels branching off into Merlin-knew-where.

"Oh, come on. How the hell did Voldemort know where to go?"

Waka sighed.

"He was evil, Harry, who ever knows why or how they do anything?"

Harry blinked.

"What sort of answer is _that_?"

"I'm sorry, you were looking for an answer?"

Harry sighed.

"Whatever. How do we get out of here?"

In the end it was relatively easy. But first Harry tried a point-me charm, trying to find Hogwarts…his wand imitated a cyclone, spinning frantically about to point at every angle of the Foundations until Harry screamed a _finite_ spell.

After a while of wandering about, Ammy seemed to tire of their bickering, and with a yip broke into a trot, leaving them scrambling to follow.

With her leading, the finally found an exit, burrowing up out of the ground to find themselves at wand-point by half the Order.

"Oh, _now_ you show up," Harry grumbled.

"He's _dead_? Really _really _dead?"

"Yes."

"All the way dead? Not, like, three-quarters, floating-around-somewhere-in-Albania dead?"

"_Yes_."

Tonks fainted.

"Harry, my boy…"

Words _finally_ seemed to fail the old Headmaster as he stared at his trouble-prone student.

Only took the destruction of the darkest wizard ever to terrorize wizard-kind, but hey, still a victory.

"Thanks to Waka and Ammy here,"

"Hey," interjected a furious Issun.

"And Issun, I suppose…"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Sorry. So thanks to all three of them and the, uh, Hogwart's Foundations, Voldemort is, um, gone."

"_I thought you said he was dead_?" Tonks had regained consciousness.

"He is."

"Then why did you say gone?!"

"Dead is gone! And I was trying to find a way to describe how he sort of…disintegrated…"

"…"

"I think we should finish this conversation inside."

Further conversation was cut short as Harry was mobbed by an ecstatic, weeping Hermione and a gruff, over-whelmed Ron.

Draco, Merlin be thanked, held himself back, giving Harry a respectful nod.

"This calls for hot-chocolate."

"Come on, Hermione, I think this calls for something a bit stronger than chocolate…who's up for a Firewhiskey?"

"Weasley!"

"Sorry, professor, I meant, a, er, oh, bollocks, I think celebrating the day Vol-Voldemort died is a damn good excuse to drink."

He ducked, expecting a clip under the ear.

There was a pause.

"I think you might be right."

Unfortunately, Harry was not left to enjoy his…hot chocolate…in peace. He had to retell what happened…over, and over again.

To everybody. While trying to fend off Madame Pompfrey.

"Enough, Potter! You tell me you _died _and you _still_ try to get out of a checkup! Well too bad! Now sit still before I stun you and tie you to a hospital bed!"

We never said he was successful.

Confirmation of Voldemort's death was received, and message after message streamed out, carrying the good news. Parties had broken out in all the common rooms, jubilant aurors port-keying in to collect the surviving death eaters. Harry took it all in with a tiny smile, trying to take in the enormous sense of freedom enveloping him. Sorrow for Remus clouded his soul, but the future beckoned him for the first time.

_Mom…Dad…Sirius, Remus….I miss you guys…_

Waka smiled softly by the window, stroking Amaterasu's head gently as they sat by the window, staring out at the dawn and watching the fall of the light over the earth.

Issun, fascinated by the Firewhiskey, snatched a mouthful and went still.

Smoke shot out of his ears. Then with an eep the ponicle toppled over with a thump onto the table, twitching slightly.

He fell still.

Then he bounded to his feet with a whoop that caught everyone's attention.

"Whoa, give me more of that!" And threw himself into the cup- Ron's- like a snorkeler- but without the snorkel.

"Eww…"

Draco played with the bandages around his arm, staring into his cup and contemplating the turn his life had taken.

Then he smiled, and drained the cup.

Somewhere outside, a young auror wept over the body of a still werewolf.

And yet…Everything was as it should be.

Waka lay on the roof of the tower, playing a random tune on his flute and watching the stars wheel overhead. The parties were only just now winding down, and drunken singing still floated up occasionally to mix with his music.

He lowered the instrument with a sigh.

"A much better ending," he breathed to the night, closing one hand around his fang necklace with a smile.

His expression darkened for a moment as his mind played over the images of what-could-have-been, but the glowing present banished the image and his smile returned.

And now their adventure was ended, he supposed. The Dark wizard was dead and everybody could continue their lives. Harry could finally go through a school year without someone trying to kill him.

Maybe.

But their mission here was ended, Ammy had resumed her previous form, everything was…normal. His prophetic senses almost hummed at the peace and prosperity clouding the future here.

It was odd.

Sadly, he was used to great evils and dramatic battles and everything balancing on the roll of the dice.

But just for this moment, everything was peaceful. It was nice.

The swordsman raised his flute to his lips and began to play again, a sweet, trilling tune that leapt like birdsong and lingered in the air.

"But why?!"

Waka sighed.

"Issun, you know we can't stay here forever."

"Come on, you crazy prophet, why not? Think of all we'll have to leave behind- the babes, the jam, the alcohol, the jam, the magically filling plates, the jam, th-"

Waka flicked the ponicle off of Ammy's head, shutting him up.

"You can take some jam with you, you know. But we can't stay here."

The ponicle bounced sulkily back onto the wolf's head.

"But why not? We can still visit Nippon…why can't we stay here, prophet?"

He crossed his tiny arms.

The swordsman threw a glance to the heavens, sighing again.

"Because this isn't our home, my little bouncing friend, and like it or not, Nippon is the world we must protect. Ammy can't stay away forever, you know."

The ponicle continued to sulk.

"And there are so many other worlds to visit yet," the Tao master tempted.

"Worlds just full of treasure and foods you haven't tried yet, woman who don't know to run screaming from you yet…"

The ponicle smiled dreamily, then blinked.

"Hey!"

"The point is we can't stay. But we can come visit now and then. Anyway, it'll take a day for me to summon the Ark here without disrupting the wards. So relax. Enjoy it for a little while longer."

Amaterasu watched the exchange with amusement. Issun opened his mouth to argue again but was cut off with a shriek as she snapped him expertly out of the air, shaking her head then coughing the ponicle out onto the floor.

"Ack! Ammy, what have I told you about doing that?! How can I attract the babes smelling like wolf slobber, huh?"

Waka smirked, fiddling once more with his necklace, admiring the shimmer of light off of the silver shine of the cord.

Sparkly, oddly familiar light…come to think of it…

He lifted the necklace into the air a little, squinting. Where had he seen that exact shade of silver-white? It was sort of like Ammy's fur, only…

He gaped, utterly still.

Only…unbraid the coils of the cord and you would be left not with wolf's fur but with impossibly bright hair. Hair he had seen not long ago, when magic had changed a certain someone's shape.

He stared into nothing for a long while, mouth still open, unaware of the voices calling his name.

His head swung around to stare at the wolf serenely scratching at an ear.

"You," he breathed.

"You, you've been human before! You have to have been! You gave me this necklace centuries ago- when you were a wolf!"

Memories replayed at lightning speed.

"When? Who did you make it for? Why did you give it to me? Why were you a person then? Can you change? What-"

A furry form tackled him, knocking him onto the stone floor with an oomph of expelled air. She licked his face, staring into his eyes, then huffed with amusement. She licked him again, gently, then pressed her cold nose to the hollow of his throat, staring at him meltingly.

_For you_.

He couldn't help it. He softened.

From somewhere to the left, there was a muttered "Sucker!" as Issun dried himself off.

"You made it for me? But that must have been before you met me! How could you-?"

She leapt off him, stretching, an air of smugness around her.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're not going to tell me? Why you were human before?"

She scratched her ear again.

"I'll find out, you know. Somehow."

She yawned.

"I'm a prophet, I have my ways."

She circled lazily, then flopped onto the ground in a patch of sunlight, curling up into a ball.

"Fine. Don't tell me. But somehow, someday, you're going to regret this…"

She seemed to be asleep.

"Just you see…I foresee a trip to a world full of thorns…I know how you hate getting them out of your coat. Or a stint as a babysitter, I know you just love all those grimy little toddlers pulling your fur…"

The day of their departure dawned clear.

"Do you have to go?" Harry asked soulfully as he hugged Amaterasu again. She licked his face.

A fair percentage of Hogwarts had found excuses to be nearby as the odd trio made to leave. Waka waved a hand negligibly.

"Don't worry, Harry, ma petite will come back! But there are things to do, and you have to finish your schooling. You might even manage a normal year…"

"Is that a formal prediction?" the teen shot back.

The prophet laughed.

"Not for all the jam in the world."

The ponicle shot him a dark look.

The prophet ignored him.

"So…how are you guys leaving?"

Waka smirked.

"Watch and see."

On cue the air above then shimmered and suddenly, floating easily above the lake in casual defiance of all the laws of physics, appeared the Ark.

"…cool…"

Then the watchers- who weren't even pretending to be innocent bystanders anymore- gasped, as a glittering rainbow path wove itself out of the air to finish at Amaterasu's feet.

"Your chariot awaits, ma petite."

She licked Harry again, danced around Draco and the twins, flowers following in her wake, then ran lightly up the rainbow path to disappear into the Ark.

There was a sigh.

"Well, I suppose that's all."

"We can't even begin to repay you," began Dumbledore, but Waka cut him off with a smile.

"Life should always be preserved, we were glad to help."

He suddenly stopped, and stared as the Ark seemed to shiver in the air.

"What by the Celestials…"

His eyes suddenly widened and he looked around frantically for a moment before wheeling about with a curse.

"Issun! Get away from those controls!"

And with a hurried goodbye the prophet sprinted up the rainbow path even as it began to disappear beneath him.

And so ends the tale of how Okami Amaterasu came to the magical world of Earth and helped defeat a great evil.

With a little help, of course.

**The End!** Of this story, anyway…Thanks so much to everybody who followed me in this- I hope you enjoyed it! Til next time, then.


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